Systematic Desires
by Sheba.of.Darkness
Summary: What if technology and wishful thinking had no limits? What if we all agreed on our taste for a single man? Ileana lives in what she always though of as utopia. Men all around look like the perfect vampire from the series Twilight. It's no coincidence...
1. Chapter 1

**The Edwardian Century**

**R**eproduction had always been considered to be an exclusive ability that needed of both men and women. The world was populated by humanity and conquered based on that simple nature. However, at the turn of the 20th century, new genetic technology made things change.

As some people say, we would have been just fine as a species were it not for the inherent desire of humans to try to achieve what we desire at any cost. That and the arrival of the bestseller book "Twilight", which offered women some sort of blue-print on what a perfect man should be like. Yes, the character of that book, Edward, became a means of obsession for many young women. Many of those women grew up to be scientists and women of power. After much disappointment in love, the women of science and power got together on an experiment.

After many decades of trial an error, their experiment- which was seen as a sin against nature- was finally successful. They managed to create cultured men that had all the looks of that fictional character. It was a taboo at first, but since women of power craved them, it soon became a common staple. Rich women would order them and in many cases marry them. What was so amazing about them you ask? Well... these perfect Edwards had a 'blank' personality. They could be molded to a woman's desire, unlike the men that already grown bored of.

Bored rich women could have it all – as usual. However, as technology got more common and advanced, middle class women were also able to afford an Edward of their own. A century after this became a common scene, something odd struck. A plague like that of the Dark Ages struck the entire world. Many people died, and the surprising majority of casualties were men. Luckily for most, the Edwards seemed immune to the illness. In a rush of panic to preserve the human race, they were mass produced. Nice right? Well... the downside to it was: Who needs ordinary men when you can have a sweet Edward to love you?

The answer to that, apparently, was no one. Soon, men with other traits began to banish. Rumor has it that the few non-Edwards remaining moved to an island with women who chose them over perfection. I don't really know, but what I know is the present I live in.

It is custom now. As soon as a girl turns seventeen, she may choose her own Edward. Well, we do have variations, like hair color and length, eye color too. Yet, they still seem to lack emotions. If yelled at, they say they're sorry. They never get upset. And unfortunately, when they become ill, they don't tell so they won't become a burden. That minute flawone hurt me most of all,; because my father was an Edward. He had his own name and he was married to my mother. I remember his eyes and his kindness. Even though he looked like my best friend's dad, mom could tell him apart from a crowd. She loved him so, but me... I'm afraid I don't miss him since I see him whenever I go outside.

Oh, and before I forget, I should mention that all Edwards are only able to father girls. Experiments to alter them to be able to father boys gave disastrous results. Many of they boys born from those experiments were born too ill or deformed to survive. There are still some sperm banks to help with insemination, but the boys born from that are usually sterile and not as handsome. Thus, mothers always discourage girls from marrying them. After all, selfish women that want handsome men also want their daughters to be selfishly happy. It's only fair, isn't it?

Not me though, my mom's different. I'm a fumbling mess on my own; yet my mom trusted me to make my own choice. Sometimes I wish she'd choosechose for me, but now that I'm an adult, I have made up my mind. Working as a librarian and reading romantic manga and the "Twilight" series over a hundred times, I can see why anyone would want to get an Edward of her own. Indeed, even I have an appointmentI'll go the 'Placement' office toand ask for my very own Edward. After all, I am near my twentieth birthday. At least, that was the plan when I woke with my usual messed up hair that opaque Monday morning...

My appointment was at 9 a.m. but I was there almost forty minutes earlier. The two receptionists were two Edwards dressed as male nurses. I stood there gawking at their looks until one of them smiled and asked if he could help me. Embarrassed at yet another of my daily faux pas, I sat in the small waiting room. I had been given a small questionnaire, and when I was done –since I had left in such a hurry- I realized nature was calling. I walked up to the reception desk to ask where the restroom was. One of the guys looked at me like I was something despicable, but the one that had welcomed me before was kind enough to point the way.

He probably thought that I had understood. Yet, in reality all I was doing was thinking, "How can I get you or an exact copy of you to become _my_ Edward?"

I kept walking daydreaming of that warm smile and those sweet arms around me. Suddenly, I was hit! It wasn't something like a realization, but something more like being hit by a car or running into a wall. Next thing I knew, I was complaining about my butt. I looked up and saw papers flying all over the place. I couldn't help but see them as the white pigeons that I wished to see released on the day of my wedding. However, that would have to wait for a bit longer. First, I had to help undo the mess I had just caused.

I picked up the last two papers in the air and resolved to pick up more. When I looked down to the ground, someone was on his knees frantically picking up the mess. Although, I could only see his back, I was stricken by his flawless auburn hair. Just the right length over the neck and wild spikes. I wanted to literally reach over and immerse my fingers into that magnificent example of what an Edward's hair should be like. I might have done it too, except that I was too shocked when he turned around. I must say I was astounded, but not by beauty. His face could be described more by... Well, the word GLASSES should suffice. Glasses so thick and large that covered most of his face. Those were thick little the bottom of a bottle and so large that they covered most of his face. His perfectly straight nose was merely able to peek from under the heavy black frames. Not mention the thick magnification of the lenses made his eyes look so ridiculously large like some overtly exaggerated manga or anime character whose eyes are so large that it no longer looks human. I wear glasses too, but the frame is small and the lenses are meant to mimic invisibility.

I must have stood there staring -and judging his glasses and how they matched with his white shirt and black paints- that he flushed a bit and fixed his glasses. Then, he snatched the papers from my hand, "What the hell?!" he shouted.

I replied in kind, "I should be asking that! What the freakin' hell?! You knocked me down with a ton paper! Here I am trying to help and get this attitude!"

He ignored me completely and continued gathering papers. He seemed to be trying to place them back in order as he tried to avoid eye contact with me –as if that was a challenge when wearing those things. I decided to be the adult, since he looked so young with a lean frame of his body, and grinding my teeth as I faked a smile, I asked, "Where's the bathroom!"

He pointed to the wall on my left without looking up. It was a big arrow pointing to the restrooms. I felt a mix of embarrassment and an urge to kick him while he was down-on his knees picking collecting papers. Lucky for him, his hair was on my sight. I took a deep breath and left him to fret alone over the mess.

In the bathroom, I felt relief from the two cups of coffee that I had drank that morning, but my whining conscience didn't stop pestering me for one second while I was in there. Angry, I shook my hands until they were dry. I walked out determined to help that nerdy jerk with amazing hair, but for a streak of luck and to my conscience's dismay, he was gone. I raised my arms in the air and in my mind shouted victory!

I returned to the front office without further incidents, until the handsome receptionist called to me. He told me –very discretely- that I was now late for my appointment by five minutes. By the look of worry in his expression, I could tell it would bring forth awful consequences.

I was led to the office and he kindly opened the door. It reminded me of one of those horror movies when they offer a human sacrifice to a monster in a dungeon because as soon as I set a foot inside, he disappeared. As it turns out, my perception was almost right.

A woman sat behind a large, and maybe, very expensive desk. The name on the plaque of her desk said 'Dominica Turmaine, Manager'. Her jet-black hair was neatly tied in a bun, unlike mine, not a single hair was out of place. I kept quiet for a few seconds because she seemed to be intently reading some documents- as an avid reader, I know what a bother it can be to be interrupted as you read. So, I let a couple of minutes slide, but it was enough. I cleared my throat to let her know I was there. She didn't even flinch. I cleared my throat again, "Uhm, hi. My name is Ileana Rivers."

She looked up and I saw her eye to eye for the first time. Her piercing green eyes were what I always imagined a dragon's eyes would look like. Her tongue almost seemed to flicker like a lizard's in between her burgundy painted lips. I expected a ball of fire to burst out, but it didn't. Her words were more like ice then fire, "Yes, I am aware of that or else you wouldn't be sitting before me. I also know now, you lack some of the most basic manners."

"What?!" I thought, but since she was a figure of authority, I had no other choice but to say, "I-I'm sorry. I'm just..."

She cut me off, "You're just an enthusiastic nineteen year old librarian. You only got an associate degree from a junior college and quit on your studies. However, your answers to this questionnaire seem to mark that you aim for a more educated life partner. Am I correct so far?"

I felt like stabbing my leg with a pain just to help me suppress the rage I was feeling. I never liked people putting me down, but this time I swallowed my pride, "Yes, but I also know that to attain an Edward of such high level of studies, it requires for a woman to make a larger 'donation'."

She raised an eyebrow, and proceeded to dissect my life and personality, "It says here your father died of a heart illness. I'll be sure to stress health as one of the qualities for your partner."

Indeed, although, the donation was marked as alternative, if you don't pay, it can get you a defective husband. I had heard all sorts of stories; the one that I always thought was too ridiculous to be true. The most outrageous of them was the one of a woman who paid nothing. Her Edward looked perfect, but on her wedding night, she was shocked and disappointed to find her new beloved was a unic- yep, just a regular 'Kent' doll. Although, I doubt they would go that far, it was best not to risk it. I picked up a little post-it note from my pocket and wrote the quantity I could 'donate' with my meager salary.

My proposed donation was taken and nonchalantly stuck to the rest of my file. She closed it and looked at me, "I'm sorry," she said making me almost faint, "As you might or might not have noticed that our facilities are undergoing essential upgrades. This is all to better serve you. Thus, I plea that you be patient and check back with us in a month or so. Have a good day."

"Wait a minute," I stood up, but I wasn't ready to go anywhere without an answer, "I came all the way here for nothing? Was a courtesy call too much to ask for? What kind of good service is that?!"

"I imagine that you were eager with anticipations of your future life. But without the full use of our facilities, we cannot make a complete assessment of an adequate partner for you. However, this initial meeting has saved us time for the next time we meet. Again, have a good day, and be careful on your way out."

I was horrified and humiliated. An austere woman had crossed examined me in less that ten minutes –I could tell she held back, but her eyes judged my clothes and everything else- and all for nothing!

I was walking out muttering curse words under my breath, when I heard a kind and soft voice say, "Bye Ileana."

I turned around. It was my dreamy front-desk Edward waving bye at me. My face blushed in all tones of red as I waved back, and I ran out as fast as I could.

That day, I had an uneventful workday –no surprises there. None of my coworkers asked me why I was late, and I didn't bother telling them about it either.

At night, I wished to dream about my dreamy Edward, but instead I dreamed that I was stuck in a horrible little dark room with papers falling from the ceiling. I tried to organize them alphabetically, but every time I finished more poured in. After I had the same dream five nights in a row, I decided it could only have two sources. Either that nerd guy had done some sort of vengeful witchcraft on me, or my conscience was still at war with me from that incident. Whichever the case, I knew there was only one way to stop that recurring nightmare.

Standing across the street from the placement office, I realized how extensive the upgrades were. The entire place was getting a new building in the back. Cranes were lifting metal supports and cement mixers were all over the place. I wonder how I missed it before. I was a bit nervous. Maybe the place is closed, I thought. But it was clearly open. It wasn't a five-start treatment that had brought me back to that place, but I was going in anyway. I tried to avoid getting mud in my shoes, and nearly slipped in a puddle of water. I thought I'd hit the floor flat on my back, but when I opened my eyes I saw a handsome face hovering above me. It was a handsome Edward working on the construction. His eyes were blue and his hair was blonde, but the rest of his features were entire those of an Edward. He had caught me with one arm while holding a bucket of cement with the other. I turned red and stammered to express my gratitude, "Uh, uhm, so-"

"Be more careful next time, Miss." He said and walked away.

It was becoming a source of concern to me. I wasn't the shy type, but somehow, every time an Edward got close to me, my body became stiff and I became a babbling fool. My friends at work jokingly attributed that to my 'need for a husband'. At one point, they even took me to a shady underground place where Edwards work and live for the sole purpose of entertaining women with more than dancing. But this was a completely different situation.

I walked in through the automatic doors with a hopeful wish of seeing the desk attendant wave at me and say, "Welcome back Ileana." But it wasn't the case. In fact, they were surrounded by women getting new appointments. They all seemed as pissed as I had been which made me feel more at ease. However, when the purpose of my visit flashed through my mind, I felt running outside and jumping into a cement mixer. I looked in all directions wondering which way to go. As I made my decision, I took a step back. It was another faux pas.

"Ouch!"

I turned, and realized I had just stepped on someone's foot with the tip of my heel. I was about to beg for an apology, when a saw that obnoxious pair of glasses again. I gasped and placed my hand over my mouth. I managed to say, "Sorry."

He looked up and fiercely glared at me -as fierce as anyone can look with those glasses- and then he pointed, "You're a walking danger to people, you know that?!"

"You walked up behind me!"

"I was about to say I was... never mind."

"You were what?" I insisted he finished.

He turned away and took off his glasses to clean them. All I could see was his perfect profile, which assured me that those glasses were only there by mistake. Nevertheless, I noticed something else; he was blushing as he confessed. "I sort of recognized your hair. I was going to say I'm sorry about before, but..."

I was speechless. That someone could recognize my standard long brown hair with a couple of hairs out of place was nothing short of astonishing. Even my own mother had mistaken me for other girls a couple of times before, but he...

Just as my heart and mind had made peace with the idea of giving him a sincere apology, the door next to us opened. And from it emerged the 'dragon' woman. It only took one glare from her to have him apologizing, "I'll get back to work right away ma'am." He said. And he was gone again.

She looked at me up and down. I could tell she disapproved of my long gray skirt and black vest over a white shirt. Oddly enough, she invited me inside and asked me to sit down. I had her full attention this time, and I was petrified. She tapped her nails on her desk waiting for me to probably say something stupid so she could talk down on me. So, I kept quiet. She finally gave up waiting and talked, "Miss Rivers, I'm beginning to have some concerns about you. You must certainly be aware that it has been far less than a month."

I tried to make my words as clear as possible, "Of course I am. I came here for another reason."

"If you're here to ask for a special, per say feature, on your partner because of this delay, we can discuss it later when your next appointment is set."

I continued to stubbornly hold my ground, "I'm not here because of that. So, if you..."

"Miss Rivers," she pressed on, "Let me advise you on a few things. Number one, this is a government office and we don't take kindly to threats. Number two, if you exhibit any sort of deranged behavior I will be forced to place you on our 'black list'. Let me tell you that being in such a list will prevent this any other government 'Placement' office from allowing you to take home one of our specimens as your life partner. Lastly, take this as an advice that applies to everything in life, but haste does not yield adequate results. Failures are often the result of haste. As a woman of good taste and talent, I imagine that you're not fond of failure. There's no larger example of failure than that fumbling mess that was speaking to you outside my office just now. If you wish to avoid such aberrations in the future, please remain calm and patient. Good things will come of it."

It had been enough. I had sat there listening to her proud speech as she pranced around her office in her expensive designer suit. My nails dug into my hand to keep me from having an outburst, but it hadn't been enough. In third grade I beat up a girl for putting glue on my best friend's hair, and again in middle school when made my friend cry about her clothes being too out of style. It was instinct. I stood up and slammed the palms of my hands on her fancy desk. "Him!" my voice was loud and I had to keep it from trembling in my fit of rage, "I want him. Give him to me. If no one else wants him, I'll take him. He's not..."

"He is too a failure!" she shouted back, "He's an experiment gone wrong. We lost all hope in him by the time he turned twelve. Why on earth would you want such a burden?"

I insisted, "It doesn't concern you. I'll give you my savings. Just give him to me."

While remained standing, she sighed in frustration. She dropped back on her chair and looked at me. I hid my eyes under a layer of my hair, but I saw her frown turn into a wicked smirk, "Very well," she said. She began to take out some documents from a drawer, "You're a spirited woman. I respect that. And maybe I'm wrong and your biological needs are proving to be too much for you. I have his paperwork. I never thought I'd have to fill it out, but... here we are."

I remained stiff, and managed to nod.

She instructed me to sit down, but I refused. Her smile grew. I knew she was amused and she wanted to laugh until her sides split. But she kept her composure. She showed me the folder and flickered the pages before me, "His eyes are defective. He's a flatfoot. And... if I recall correctly from your file, you wish to have three kids of your own. We have yet to make a concrete study, but we suspect he might be sterile. Won't that be an issue?"

I shook my head and managed to grin and say, "Adoption is always a possibility."

She smiled again, "Good answer. He doesn't make much money as an assistant here. But seeing how you have stubbornly set your eyes on him... I am willing to make arrangements for him to be your partner."

"What's the catch?"

She raised an eyebrow and her smile disappeared a bit. I had caught on, but she still had reason to smile, "As you know, if for any reason a specimen is unfit for the woman he was given to, he's simply taken back. The woman is issued a new partner. This doesn't happen very often. I'd say only in about five percent of cases. Same goes for extremely premature deaths, either illness or accident related."

I sat down, and said, "Get to the point."

"It's good that you're sitting, but you might be about to take out your words and walk out now. For you see, if you insist on your choice, you make a large wager. If you're a woman of luck, then it won't matter. The gist of it is that we will only give him to you. We won't take him back, and we won't replace him if he dies. Are you still confident on your decision?"

I reached out for her pen and said, "Where do I sign?"

In total, I signed about ten pages worth. She told me this was an extremely unorthodox case. Despite her disapproval, she shook my hand before I left the office. I was told they would call me once the paperwork was processed in about 48 hours. The Edward on the front desk saw me, but said nothing else. It was almost like he wanted to ignore me. Perhaps he heard my loud outburst. I was certain of nothing from the moment I stepped out of that building; except for one thing, the 'dragon' woman was laughing at me until tears streamed down her face.

* * *

Writer's comments:

First of all, I claim no ownership of the character from Twilight. Any other similarities to real are mere coisidence. This is a work of fiction. Chapter 2 should be out soon. Lastly, I'd like to thank my friend Julie for help with some editing and introducing me to the Twilight series by Stephnie Meyer -God knows I don't read, ever!


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Boxes**

For a second time in since I had started, I arrived late to my job. No one in the library seemed to notice my absence. I was glad about that fact. My hands were still shivering from that outburst of indignation. I had managed not to drop anything, even in my best days, that was almost impossible. I began to feel better; until I stumbled upon a cart full books someone had carelessly left on my way. Of course, the pile of books made a ruckus that echoed possibly even in other countries.

I was already on the task of picking them up, when a perky small voice said, "There you are Ileana! There's a message for you in lounge area," I looked up to see Michiko- one of my co-workers with short blonde hair- she looked down and noticed, "Oh my, your stocking ripped. Don't worry. I'll take care of this. Just go pick up your message and fix that up."

Needless to say, I felt like dumb child. As far as I had always seen things, Michiko should have been more accident-prone than me. Maybe, I just had some sort of wicked little imp casting spells on me. That way of thinking always helped me get through the day –just to know I wasn't entirely hopeless.

Defeated, I went to the lounge room after changing my stockings. I always had a few spares anyway. I looked at the memo note. I saw the words without reading them, and panicked. It was sure to be mom. She probably wanted to know how things had gone. How would she react when I told her I had made such an irrational decision?

After taking in three deep breaths and holding on to my chest, I read it. It was good news. My best friend since childhood, Julianna, had just returned from her honey moon. I had saved her many times before; so, surely, it was her turn to save _me_. I dialed the number on the memo note as fast as I could. I waited impatiently tapping my foot and crumbling the note into a ball.

"Hello?" she finally picked up –after three rings- her voice sounded utterly peaceful.

"Julie, it's me..." that's all I managed to say before my voice broke down into tears. Everything around me had suddenly turned alien. I felt the walls were about to warp around me swallow me.

Despite my sobbing, she knew it was me, "Are you ok, Lea?" I shook my head –as if she could see it- and she continued, "I'm close to your work. Can you meet me at the café across the street?"

I nodded and managed a teary, "Uh huh..."

"Ok, see you there in a few minutes."

"Mhm..."

After her voice disappeared from the phone, I quickly wiped my tears away on my sleeves. I was glad not to be wearing make up, or it would have looked like someone had used my white sleeves to mop the floor. I checked out to go to lunch and took a little trip to the restroom. I didn't look as bad as I had sounded before. Even so, the realization that I might have ruined my life was just dawning on me. It frightened me like no horror story ever could.

'Bonjour a tout le monde' was the café across the street. It was nice, and it had good food. The atmosphere was also pleasant. And yet, I despised going there on my own. I always packed me own lunch from home or just skipped meals. I had nothing against the French food. I loved it as much as I loved the language. It just happened to be one of those places that made me feel extremely suffocated and self-conscious. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. I took the deepest breath I could and plunged in.

As expected, the entire place was teaming with lovely couples. It seemed odd, but just having an Edward of their own made those women have a light of their own. They looked like perfect couples all around. All smiles. All handsome Edwards had their eyes fixated on their respective women. It was just that time of ambiance that made my head spin and cheeks fill with a red blush. I wanted to run under a table and hide like a roach. I felt out of place.

Just as I was about to run out for a second breath, I saw Julie waving at me. She was sitting by the window. Her smile seemed brilliant. Her wavy dark brown hair had a presence of its own –unlike my ridiculously straight hair. We had almost always had the same interests and people often confused us for sisters, but in the time she was gone, something changed. Her skin was ivory, and well complimented by the light behind her. To make things more interesting, she was wearing designer clothes. She could afford them now that she had a book just published. I walked up to her smiling and trying to ignore how well she looked in that short black dress over her jeans, all put together with a little green jacket. I wasn't jealous. I just wished I could borrow some of her good sense.

As soon as I was close enough, her expression changed into a troubled expression.

"What's wrong?" I asked full of concern.

"I was about to ask you the same." She whispered across the table, "You've been crying. No doubt about that. What happened? Did your manager yell at you again?"

"No, no, none of that," I shook my hands as if trying to dissipate her ideas, "It's nothing related to work."

She grew impatient, "Then what?"

"Well, it's just that I- I..." I was cut off by the waitress.

"What will you have?" she asked.

I was relieved to have a second to gather my thoughts. But Julie turned to her handing her back the menus. "I'll have a cappuccino and a slice of pecan pie. She'll have a hot cocoa and a turkey sandwich."

Her voice was so assertive and cutting. I had to readjust my glasses to take a second look at her. Perhaps my hearing needed an aid too. This just didn't seem like the Julie I had grown up with.

She noticed my perplexed expression and gestured for me to continue.

I looked out of the window at the cars passing by, "So, how did it go on your honeymoon?"

She seemed angry. I thought she might reach over and slap me, but she simply raised an eyebrow and began telling me. It seemed like she was courteous enough –or too shy- to leave out the more intimate details of her honeymoon. However, she seemed to be promoting that I visit Greece at least once in my life. Apparently, it's the place more suited for men of our era.

I inconspicuously looked around and imagined one of the Edwards in the table next to ours standing under the bright sun of Greece next to the ruins. Certainly, it would be befitting to his godly looks. As soon as my cocoa drink arrived and I took a sip of it, I sank even deeper into the blissful illusions brewing in my mind. It didn't last.

Julie snapped her fingers at me. When she had my attention, she demanded that I explain why I was so troubled. I knew she wouldn't buy it if I told her I was just overwhelmed by the joy of her return. After all, it would be good practice for when I broke the news to my mom. Thus, I began my tale of failure to being a normal woman of society and how my rage had gotten the best of me, yet again.

We ate as I spoke. Even though she seemed calm as a lamb at pasture, her eyes were bewildered. When I finished my story, she asked if that was all. When I said, "Yeah, I guess for now..." she hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. She reached over and smacked my forehead too, which I can translate of her calling me an idiot.

"Lea, if anything, I think you..." her words were cut off.

This time it wasn't the waitress. It was a sweet and masculine voice emanating from the presence behind me, "So, here you are!"

I froze and looked over my shoulder, very slowly. I saw nothing but black clothes. Black shoes, black pants, and black long sleeve shirt unbuttoned midway showing a muscular and lean chest. I dared to look up. He had sleek black hair nearly covering his eyes. His softly tanned skin appeared to be made of silk. I would have passed out then; except, he ignored me and leaned over to kiss Julies cheek. His lips pressed against her skin so very softly and slowly. I felt like I was witnessing something forbidden. Then I realized Julie was introducing me.

"Aiden," she gestured toward me graciously, "remember my best friend Ileana?"

He turned to me with little interest, but still smiled, "Yes, how can I forget the famous Lea? Savior of the weak, right?" he offered me his hand.

I sank back into my chair as I shook his soft hand, "Hi... Aiden. How are you?"

He nodded. It seemed like his dark blue eyes mocked my lack of social skills. While he was being attentive toward Julie, I pictured him standing by the Greek temples, and thought of how apt the name Aiden was for a godlike figure such as him.

I stood up and apologized for leaving so suddenly, but it was time to get back to work. It seemed like my presence would hardly be missed so I hurried to the door. Julie caught up with me, "Wait!" she said, "We're not done talking. Don't be shy. Aiden should be like family to you now."

I faked my best phony smile, "It'll work out somehow. Remember how nervous you were before the big day?" and she was, "Got to go to work now. Bye."

"We will talk later, right?" she seemed menacing.

I nodded, still smiling.

As I dodged cars to cross the street –I hate waiting for the light to change and it was too far- I found myself whispering the name of Julie's husband, "Aiden..." It was then, when it hit me. I had absolutely no idea what my future husband's name was!

The end of the day looked gloomy for me, and the sky seemed to accentuate it. On the bus ride, I imagined what it would be like to sleep on a cloud. It was hopeless. Even a daydream broke into a 'daymare' –if such thing exists- as I picture the clouds parting apart to let me fall. I forced myself to cry as soon as I got home. I wasn't sure why I wanted to do so, but I knew my voice would break as soon as I called my mom. At least that one thing I was right about.

The phone rang about three times and she picked up, "Hell?"

"Mom, how are you?"

"I'm fine dear. Is this about your trip to the 'Placement' office?"

My stomach was tied in a knot, but I managed to speak. I told her everything with flawless detail. By end of my rant, I heard her sigh.

"Mom, what should I do now?" I asked almost in tears, hoping she would fetch me out of this mess like she had done after my fights.

She was silent for a moment, but her tone was serious. It sent chills down my spine as she said, "There's no going back, dear. You signed. You were lucky enough to meet him first and choose him. Do you know how rare that is?" I was about to protest when she shut me up with her flattery, "I'm very proud of you. Your father would be proud. And your sister will be proud too. It's a quality I admire most of you. I..."

I interrupted, "Mom, I'm tired now. I'll call you later, ok?"

"OK, have a good night. Remember that I love you."

"Me too, mom."

It wasn't a lie. As soon as the phone was on its base, I somehow made it to my bed and collapsed into a heavy sleep. During that night, I dreamed many things. Messy things that didn't make sense. In that mess, I began to believe that everything had been a dream and nothing more.

A pestering ring broke my deep slumber. It was my second night sleeping so well, but now something was wrong. I slammed my palm on snooze button on my alarm, but the ringing continued. I opened my eyes and in the blur, I saw a red flickering light. My mind woke up with my body as I reached for the phone. Before I could say, "hello?" a cold voice was calling my name.

I immediately pictured the 'dragon' woman, "Miss Rivers, I would like to congratulate you. Your work has been entirely processed and approved."

"Huh?" I mumbled, but in reality I wanted to ask, sure it wasn't a dream of mine?

She continued ignoring my confusion, "All is set for your 'mate' to move in today in the afternoon."

She continued to confirm my address, while I said yes to everything, I thought with disgust how she saw us. Using the word 'mate' as if we were a pair of zoo animals. I was about to argue about it when she stunned me.

"All of the aspects of our contract still stand. However, the board would allow me to pass the contract without adding this to the contract."

"What?"

"It seems you will be able to return him..."

Yes! I thought, finally! Sweet justice! But it was too soon.

"Two new clauses were added. If he commits an infidelity, we will take him back."

My ease faded thinking that someone with those glasses... how could he get someone to date him when this world's crowded with gorgeous men?

"If," I yawned as she spoke, "Please Miss Rivers, pay attention. I won't repeat this."

"I'm sorry, Miss Turmain. It's just that I..."

She ignored me and continued, "If he causes you any bodily harm, we will take him back."

I mimicked her in awe, "Bodily... harm?"

"He should be arriving this afternoon between three and five. Please make sure you take all necessary arrangements. This will be a long term situation. Any questions?" she asked last, as if she would answer them.

I wanted to ask about that last clause, but the mess in my room sent me to my feet, "No that's fine. Thanks."

"Have a good day."

She was gone. And I was still in my messy room fretting to put things in order. Before anything could get done, I had to call and ask for the day off at work. Even thought no one would notice my absence, I wanted to remain honest.

The manager barely listened to me and said it was ok.

House work wasn't my forte. My house was particularly small. My mom bought it with some of the money left from my dad's life insurance. She insisted that someone my age needed privacy and that I needed to be more independent. I hated it at first. But after a light coat of pink in my room, it didn't seem half as bad.

My house wasn't big. I don't know the exact measures, but I know that my room was just big enough for my bed and a small nightstand. The room next to it was a walk-in closet –or so I was told. I turned it into my own small study. An old man in the neighborhood, one of the very few non-Edwardian men I had ever met, had fixed a bookshelf in all the four tiny walls. I had a medium size desk in there. My own personal library was nice, but a bit too dark. My backyard was actually my true sanctuary in sunny days. It had a small orange tree that had tiny blossoms every spring. I loved them, but they would never get to become oranges. I decided it was too young and small for that anyway. The kitchen was small as well, but it got plenty of light from my utterly plain and grassy backyard. The living room had no TV, just a couch and a few cushions of the floor where I thought some chairs would go well.

First on my cleaning list was my bathroom. I had trouble cleaning away the mold because the smell of bleach made me dizzy. And it also worried me having to share that single most private place with a complete stranger, a man who didn't seem fit for me. I picked up my stray underwear making sure to get them all and put them to wash.

The hours passed me, and soon I was starving. After brunch, I realized it was one 'o clock. I dumped my dish in the sink and ran to my most important task of the day. I decided, to my deepest regret, that I would turn my lovely study into a room for... him?

I managed to drag out the desk. I left it in the backyard with a plastic sheet over it. I vacuumed. I dusted. And I set a futon on the floor for him. I had a small night stand with two drawers set next to his bed. The room looked small and it needed a window, but it seemed like habitable place nonetheless. I left my books thinking he wouldn't be there forever.

Since I began working my mind was machinating a way out. It was all set. I'm such a klutz that I would get hurt by accident anyway. If we hated each other, the way out would be blaming him for one of those accidents and he'd be out of my life. I dusted my hands smiling and feeling proud of my clever idea.

The doorbell rang. I fell apart, confidence and all.

I tried to touch up my hair, and ran to the door taking deep breaths. I was shocked when I opened the door and I heard a cute, "Hello."

The melodious voice belonged to the receptionist from the 'Placement' office. I blushed instantly and said, "Hi. Uhm, how can I...?"

"Could you sign this please?"

I took the clipboard and signed my name. I had no chance to ask anything.

He handed me a manila folder packed with papers and said, "He's all yours now. Have a good day, Miss Rivers."

He patted my head almost with pity and his voice was taunting. I couldn't answer.

He turned back toward the street and I heard him asking, "Do you need help?"

A more serious voice replied, "No, this is all of it."

The desk attendant smiled and got into a black car. He opened the back door and got in. I could have sworn I saw the 'dragon' woman's designer heels, but the car was gone before I could even take a better look.

I could see him bending into a dark blue sedan. He was picking something out of the car. Before I could ask, he stood up and turned in my direction. I only saw his perfect hair peeking from behind two large cardboard boxes.

"Let me help you," I called to him.

"No, just lead the way."

His hands had a tough grip on the boxes. He kicked the car-door shut without turning. I didn't dare asked if he could see me and just led the way. I took notice of the boxes. They were cardboard and the letters were faded. He had tied them closed with bits of string. He walked with ease, even if his hands were tense. I also noticed his forearms were very muscular; not exaggerated muscle, but a nice tone.

After he followed me without trouble to his room –even I stumbled twice while he didn't– he set the boxes down without much effort. Surely this wasn't the same gauche nerd that dropped a thousand files and bumped into me before?

I was facing his back while he looked at the books on the walls.

"That's my collection... uh, you can read them if you want. And of course, this is _your_ room. Mine's just next to here on your right..." I explained quietly.

I gazed at his perfect figure. He was tall with wide shoulders, just perfect for his slim figure. He was still wearing what seemed to be his work uniform. So neat and tidy, it was almost too boring. Except, his hair was still perfect, still enticing. I stood by the door waiting for his reply. He finally turned very slowly flashing the lines of his hair and his perfectly lined jaw. I noticed his lips first. And then, my jaw dropped open.

Somehow, in the midst of everything, he had ditched his ridiculous glasses for a more decent pair. I could see his dark eyes through the delicate lenses. His expression, however, was tense almost infuriated. His fists were tightly clenched as he took a step forward, "If this is _my_ room, then you won't mind if I close the door while I set up my stuff."

I barely managed to take a step back before he shut the door at my face. Regardless of how good he looked now, he had no right to be rude to me in own my own house. Irate, I knocked on the door.

"Yes?" he asked impatiently.

Something in his voice sounded almost melodic, and it changed my words, "Uh, I... I'll be making dinner now. It should be done in about forty minutes."

He kept silent for a mine, "No," he finally said, "Not hungry for tonight..."

I backed away into the tiny hallway. I waited. And nothing happened. I heard no sounds, and he didn't take a step outside. Was that it? His luggage? His life packaged in two crummy cardboard boxes? No duffel bags, no briefcases, no nothing. Perhaps, everything was in his car. Maybe he would run away from me, or maybe... his anger would lead to him hurting me.

Time passed me as I pondered all that and by the time I got to the kitchen, it was already dark outside. It looked like it would rain. In my fret to get everything right I missed this. I had always been afraid of lightning storms. So much so that I checked the weather forecast everyday. Whenever there was the slightest chance of a storm, I spent the night at my mother's place. This marked the beginning of my new life. I could no longer run away.

Despite my fears, I managed to cook my quickest specialty, basil and tomato quesadillas. I hoped the scent of the herbs would lure him out, so I made three extras for him. Nothing. Rain began pouring, but somehow I felt a strange sense of peace.

It didn't last. The roaring thunder shook me awake and the lightning shot my eyes into complete alertness. Even when I had felt at peace, I couldn't sleep knowing _he_ was next to me separated by a thin wall and a few old books. I hoped my mom would call, but she probably thought she would interrupt something. I was terrified, but what to do?

My only consolations in unexpected nights like this were my books, and now that was off limits. Then it hit me. On top of my own –much larger- night stand, was the report they had left for me. Surely, the monotonous lawyer-like language in which it was written would send me to sleep.

I eagerly opened the first folder. My application was the first page. I brought bitter memories and lost hopes, so I flipped to the next page. It was finally there, _his_ information. I was stunned. A small picture of him without glasses almost had me drooling. It was unbelievable. He had nothing to envy from any of the other Edwards, probably almost as good looking as the godly Aiden.

When my sight was finally able to draw away from his amazingly beautiful face, I turned to his name. Allan. His name was Allan. The sight of him as an angel fluttered briefly in my mind. Without intent, I had made myself blush. At least, no one was there to see. My eyes continued down on that intriguing second page. It was intriguing, indeed.

Although the form was the same as mine, none of his preferences in his mate of choice were filled. Not only that, but a big clump of whiteout covered the line of his age and the number 20 was doodled over it. I tried to see in the light, but to no avail. My mind made a quick connection, what if he had been sent to live with someone at a younger age? After all, the youngest Edwards that a woman could get were 17 years old. It was feasible. Maybe that was the reason he had been considered a failure... but it was too soon to infer anything.

Looking further down, I noticed instead of his signature was a bar-code printed on the space. A specimen. The 'dragon' woman's words resounded in my mind. To her, he was nothing more than an object compared to a grocery item. My heart trembled; a deep sorrow began crawl into my soul. I tried to ignore it by reading the rest of the report. It was all the clauses she had talked about, but in greater and more complex detail. I skimmed through and eventually, I began to feel drowsy. I found the last page was blank. Except for the line at the very top. It said:

'CODE: XR2-000112 : P2 REJECT'

I was unable to grasp the meaning of that, but it troubled me enough to scare away my drowsiness.

Suddenly, the cold in the house became unbearable. I threw a blanket over my shoulders and walked to the small hallway outside. The loud start of the furnace startled me. Most houses had quiet furnaces, but not mine. By reflex, I turned to the door at the end of the hallway where he slept. The door was now slightly open.

The sentiment I had felt earlier rushed to my heart again. Perhaps, the reason he seemed angry was the way he had always been treated, like a defective object. I didn't notice my feet had taken involuntary steps toward his door. A soft push allowed me entrance. I stepped in so very quietly.

The light that entered through the small opening from the hallway lit his hair. He was facing the wall. I could see his bare upper shoulders. It made sense for a guy to take off his shirt for sleeping, right?

An alluring scent –similar to a forest after a spring rain- emanated from his body. It enticed me, hypnotized me. Next thing I knew, I was on my knees. My fingers quivered as I slowly reached toward his hair. A shadow flashed before me. In fright I shut my eyes. When I opened them, I realized a heavy pressure over my shoulders. I was no longer sitting. I was pinned to the floor. He was hovering over me. A rush of fear paralyzed me.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." I began to say.

A low grunt interrupted me, "Hmp, so what they said about you is true."

"W- what do you mean?"

He leagued and his voice sounded serious almost bitter, "You're just a _needy_ girl. You'd do anything with anyone. You have no standards. All you wanted was..."

"That's not true!" I yelled. I tried to move, but his hold was impressive.

"Shut up!" he snarled. His face was dangerously closer to mine now. I could smell his breath filled of that sweet aroma. He whispered sounding angry, "Now that I'm here, and we're alone... you don't need to pretend. You don't need to conceal those desires..."

As his lips were over mine, I shut my eyes. My heart was beating faster and faster. I gripped the futon beneath me. If I screamed, no one would hear me. If I cried, I might choke on my own tears. All I could do was tremble underneath his body hidden in the shadows...


	3. Chapter 3

**Animosity**

**M**y shriek was hopelessly swallowed by the darkness. I squeezed my eyes shut as his lips pressed against mine. In the bitter shadows, a tender warmth washed over my still body.

When I opened my eyes, the light from the hallway entered the room blinding me. I loosened my grip from the futon and rubbed away the dry tears that blurred my vision. My first reaction after that was to scan the tiny room. He wasn't there. I even lifted the sheets to make sure. He was gone. I was alone; still fully clothed in my pajamas. When I checked, I found that the furnace had been set higher than the temperature I had set it to.

I lost consciousness. And now, I was clueless. Had anything actually happened?

No one was there to answer my question. My heart was pounding, I wanted the truth. I searched all over the house and nothing. Walking was difficult. My entire body felt numb, probably from remaining stiff the entire night... or so I hoped.

In my uncertainty, I rushed to the shower wishing the water would wash away the cold in my body. That deep cold that made me tremble every time I thought of him and the things he said. I avoided looking at my own reflection in the mirror, because I knew that if anything looked different I would break down. As the water washed over my body I tried to remember anything that could clear my suspicions. All I could remember just before fainting, for some reason, made me smile and at the same time sent chills down my spine. As it turns out, my Edward, or shall I say my Allan, was no Kent doll...

I left the empty house without a car parked in front at the usual time I always did before getting myself entangled in this quagmire. The day was beginning unusually too close to the way my old life had been. For an instance, I dared to believe it had just been one of those extremely realistic dreams.

It was no dream. It was just more of a mess than ever. As soon as I arrived to the library, I was greeted by my co-workers, "Congratulations!" they yelled in unison.

A squeak of my voice replied, "What?!"

The manager showed me a fax. Her stubby fingers didn't cover any part of the note other than the time it was sent. The 'Placement' office had been proud to announce my blissful acquisition of a life partner, "Please be considerate toward Ms. River's new life adjustments," read the last line.

Even though we were all girls, I still felt utterly self-conscious. I had reason to do so as they began to vocalize their thoughts.

"So, how did _it_ go on your first night?" said Michiko leaning over my desk to examine my expression even closer.

The images of the night before and my speculations of the worst case-scenario made bite my lip and blush even more.

The manager, a large woman with short hair and almost manly features placed her hand on my shoulder. I saw her thick lips smeared in red lipstick move telling me, "Honey, if you don't feel well. You can go home for the day. You look ... not so well. Tell him to be gentler."

Even though this woman had no inhibitions toward calling me a dope and a complete moron, she seemed to be trying to console me. And then again... the gossip began. I took a deep breath and held it as I went to my only salvation. Arranging the new arrivals was the most isolated and tedious task in the library. Up until that day, I truly hated that task.

In the midst of my labor, I managed to think something up. If they were right about what they said before then I would know, by this simple test. During my lunch break, I took my purse and valiantly marched across the street to 'Bonjour a Tout Le Monde'. I had no problem walking in through the glass doors. Crossing toward the counter my heart-rate remained even, because in the back of my mind I thought, it's ok, they're only into their girls.

I felt an odd mix of relief and panic again. I wasn't my usual self around so many Edwards. And that terrified me. If things went on like that, I would surely lose my mind.

Just then, as I was next in line, I looked away from the menu. My eyes stopped right on the new cashier's eyes. The beautiful earth-green eyes stared back at me and he smiled, "Hi, how can I help you today?"

His golden hair was just below his jaw bone playing softly against his light skin. I must have gasped, and next thing I knew, I was stuttering as I pointed at the menu, "Uh, eh... N-ne-ver mind...so-sorry..."

I don't think I've ever felt my face that red. My heart was about to jump out of his chest. Surely, there should be laws against that level of beauty displayed so shamelessly in public. And surely, his woman should take better care of him.

Before my hurried retreat, I noticed a couple of my co-workers giggling in a corner table. They had been known as the 'femmes fatales' of the office. One had long blond hair and a striking figure, her name was Edith. Physically speaking, I dreamed of being like her. Across from her was Mirna, not as pretty as Edith, but she did do a good job with her make up and curly short hair. They both claimed they had no need for a steady Edward when they could borrow someone else's. I had my serious doubts. If anything, they had been the ones who invited me to the underground bar and left me alone there. If they had to pay for it, then they weren't as seductive as they alleged to be. I didn't care either way.

I walked out brushing my hair over my shoulder. The cold air was not as cold as I remembered. It felt like a relieving caress over my flustered face as I walked back to the library.

I had just pulled the heavy door open, when I heard a shrill of tires. Even before I had completely turned by reflex, I had seen the flash of blue in front of me. He was just stepping out of the car. I wanted to run inside and call sanctuary! My body betrayed me again. He fixed his glasses with one finger as he swiftly walked toward me. Before I knew it, he was standing next to me. The fragrance of his skin hit me and paralyzed me even more.

"Let's go," he said taking my arm. His voice was serious almost bored.

"Uh," I could only gaze at his eyes, his light brown eyes which I had just seen for the first time in the light.

He pulled me guiding me to the car.

As soon as he opened the passenger door for me, I snapped, "No! I..." my voice disappeared again, "I have to work," I whispered. I bit my lip trying to hold this odd sensation of fear and sadness.

He turned away from me, "Just get in," he commanded. But when I didn't reply, he sighed, "It's ok. Your boss won't mind, trust me..."

When he turned to me, his eyes revealed a strange flickering light from beneath the glasses. Maybe it was his magic, but somehow I ended in the car and didn't notice until he was in highway.

I looked down. My skirt was just above my knees and I did all I could to cover them. His eyes were fixated on the road. When I looked out, I had to look at my knees again. He was going fast.

In this world, it seemed that everyone went to a common speed. No one seemed to be in an extreme hurry. No one passed anyone, because it was all so uniform. He, however, stood out swerving between cars passing them faster and faster.

"Do you think... I can trust you?" I asked and realized I was hyperventilating.

"What?" he said in a flat tone.

"Don't play stupid!" I said looking at my feet because the blur of the cars we were passing by nauseated me.

His right hand let go of the wheel and slowly covered mine. His hands were significantly larger than mine, no wonder he had no trouble holding me down. I stared at him. His eyes were still focused on the road and drove with ease only using his left hand. We were going almost at the limit of the odometer. I tried to loosen my hand, but he tightened the grip.

"You have _nothing _to worry about... understand?" he looked at me. The light in his eyes was so intense it felt like it would burn through his lenses.

"N-nothing...?" I repeated.

He nodded right after and a slight blush covered his cheeks.

I wanted him to make it clear. I wanted him to say in the exact words that 'nothing had happened last night', but by his expression I knew it would be impossible. Could it be that he was just as shy with the opposite gender as I was?

Despite all my questions, I felt overwhelmed with joy. I was about to loosen up my hands and hug him. I was that happy. I didn't realize the sound around us and that were slowing down.

I had only heard the sound of an emergency siren before, but never that of a traffic officer. We were stopped at the shoulder of the highway waiting for the officer to get off his bike and walk up to us.

I could see he wanted to smile. Maybe it had been his first catch of the month, or ever. He enjoyed his walk and nonchalantly leaned by the window. He was a middle aged Edward, the helmet and sunglasses hid his features, but left view of his expression lines. I was glad about that. It just didn't seem the time for me to be in one of my usual "beauty shocks".

He talked to Allan about his reckless maneuvers and going over the speed limit. I snickered thinking, this ought to teach him a lesson. But, he soon turned to me, "Excuse me, Miss," he began to say in a coarse voice.

I turned to him expecting to explain that I wasn't a hostage or anything, "Eh, yes?"

"I need your I.D," he said extending his hand completely ignoring Allan.

I scrambled to get it out of my wallet. the damned thing always got stuck in my wallet. My hand was shaking by the time I handed it to the officer. He impatiently snatched it back –as if he had any serious need to get back to duty when everyone was going at such a uniform pace.

He eyed my picture a couple of times and after determining that it was me and not someone that looked at lot like me, he began to write on what seemed to be a notepad. As he wrote and looked at his watch, he said, "I'm sure that you're aware of Allan's need for speed will cost _you_. Don't forget he's your responsibility. If necessary, try to contact..."

"It's ok," Allan interrupted, "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't," said the officer as he reached to me with my ID and the peace of paper he, "You can just mail that with your payment."

I blinked looking confused as ever. The paper in my fingers said:

'Traffic violation. The boxes checked were speeding, and disregard for common human safety.'

My name was on the offender's information. I had just been handed a speeding ticket without owning or ever having driven a car. I was appalled. And so was Allan. He reached over and snatched the ticket, "I'll pay for that," he said sounding distant as he continued to drive.

The image of his luggage –if it could be called that– flashed in my mind. I yanked the ticket back. He turned to me angry, but he couldn't do anything. I took the ticket into my wallet and then into my purse which I hid next to my door. I sighed happily. I had just won my first victory and it felt great. But then I looked out of the window, "Hey! You're doing it again!"

"We're here already," he replied, "And besides, he wouldn't have caught me if you had kept quiet while I was driving."

"Huh?" I was outraged, but that's all I managed to say.

He began to parallel park as if it was nothing, and then he explained, "I'm not used to driving with passengers..." his voice faded as he opened his door.

I began to notice then, that he seemed to avoid looking at me whenever he spoke. Somehow, knowing that gave me a jump or a certain edge of advantage. I didn't get to celebrate it much. He opened my door before the feeling had completely taken effect. Seeing his hand waiting for mine to help me up, just made me melt.

The skin of his hand was firm, but quite soft. For a moment, it felt like his fingers traced over the softness of my frail hand. Before I could confirm anything, he let go.

It was amazing how swift he was. After meeting him for the first time, I was sure he was a klutz like me, but now I wasn't so sure. He waited for me outside the door with his arms closed and looking away from me. I noticed then that his clothes were peculiarly casual for office work. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said 'Karma' across the chest. I chuckled a little disguising it in the ring of my keys as I opened the door. Nonetheless, his figure amazed me, lean and muscular like a statue. His firm chest had nothing to envy that of Aiden's –except maybe the type of shirt.

After I made sure I wouldn't laugh, I stammered to ask, "Uh, so, uhm, you had a casual day at the office?"

"No," he said as he looked around the living room, "I had the day off."

"So, where did you go this morning?" I tried to sound casual, but I knew it still made me seem... needy.

He walked off to the kitchen. For a moment I thought he didn't hear me, "I went for a hike at Mount Dista."

There was no remorse in his words. In fact, he seemed a bit annoyed. It was dawning on me, the fact that he wasn't accustomed to this kind of domestic life. Perhaps, he had already resigned to living without it.

I followed him into the kitchen, "Mount Dista, isn't that a dangerous hunting location?" I stood by the doorway awaiting his reply tapping my foot on the ground.

He was looking around in the kitchen, "This time of the year is usually not so full."

"Were you hunting?" I urged. My voice sounded upset.

He stopped looking into the cabinets and turned to me almost amused, "You have animosity toward hunting, don't you?"

I nodded as I remembered the image of my pet dog. We had taken him to that mountain on the day of my eleventh birthday. He strayed from us and was shot by a hunter who claimed to have confused him with another animal. I never forgave the man.

"Would you make me leave if I said I had been hunting? Would it hurt you if I said I killed a cuddly bear?" he mocked me.

"Even if I..." I had wanted him to, but I couldn't say it to his face. It felt something within me would shatter if I did, "It's a dangerous thing. I don't approve of it, but I can't make you change."

"You can't take me back either..." he said hiding again into the fridge in search of food, and when he reemerged he said, "I was hiking."

I felt as though someone had pulled me out of a nosedive into a jagged cliff. I exhaled and realized he was cutting vegetables. He had water boiling.

I ran to his side startled, "Hey, I'll do the cooking if you're hungry."

He simply pointed to a white book on the counter with the tile "Healthy Cooking", and to my dismay, he added, "The food you prepared yesterday was lacking in some basic vitamins and minerals."

"Oh," I said, "But... it was good," I insisted, "If you're hungry from that hike, I'll make you a quick snack. It looks like you're going to take a while..." my voice trailed off as I looked at his technique.

He seemed slow or too cautious not to have an accident. He blushed when he realized I was leaning to close. He fixed his glasses in place, "Go sit down. I don't want you getting burned!"

His irate voice and pointing finger had me sitting at the small kitchen table in no time. I was like a bad kid being put in a corner. I couldn't say anything for fear he would yell at me, and even worse, that he might get hurt because of me distracting him.

The pungent odor of freshly chopped onions filled the kitchen and probably the entire house too. I sat quietly looking at him glancing at the instructions in the recipe. He seemed confident. I, too, began to feel confident as the smell of onions began to take a sweet turn. Fried in butter, just about anything was good.

An hour must have passed. He didn't sit once and I wasn't allowed to help. I was nodding off into sleep when my own stomach's growl woke me up. He turned away from the stove and glared at me, "It'll just be a couple of minutes now."

"I know," I said abruptly. "I just... uhm, I was realizing. We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Ileana Rivers, but you can call me..."

"Lea," he said as he turned off the stove, "I'm Allan, but of course that you already knew that." Although there was no emotion in his words, his voice was even more melodic as he said his name after mine.

I blushed, "Yeah, sorry if that bothers you."

He shook his head, "We're even," he stated turning to me with a slight smile, "Or did you think they would throw me in here without any information on you?"

"Guess not..." I mumbled. In fact, it seemed that information –even the most personal– was open to the public. After all, I had just witnessed it at my own workplace.

I laughed nervously trying to hide my discomfort when suddenly a large soup bowl was served before me. It was brown and runny with melted cheese on top. I was afraid to ask. He set a bowl of salad on the table and sat in front of me. Then he explained, "It's French onion soup. You don't eat a very varied diet so this should be good for you."

I couldn't believe he had even that he knew that much about me from a simple file. I certainly couldn't recall when I had written that in my application. Perhaps he had figured it out by my current food supplies. I agree that it wasn't a grocery store, but I managed to go days well fed without leaving my house at all.

Nevertheless, I took on his advice. I took a spoon and he did the same. The melted cheese over the crouton looked terrific. He took a bite first. His expression turned serious and troubled. His pale skin began to turn green. He rushed to spit in the sink. I put my spoon down, "Are you ok?" I asked.

I could hear him muttering something about "wrong" and "spices". He pranced to my side and took my plate away. I heard the waste disposal go on, and he explained, "I'm sorry. It's... I messed up. I substituted one of the spices and it... well, sorry." I could hear the shame in his voice.

I shook my head. I took a fork and stuck it in the salad. I was confident that telling him that at least the salad was not a failure would cheer him up. However, I got a slap to my taste buds. I chewed and chewed on the bitter greens and supper sour orange. Even my best effort to grin was crippled as I announced, "Tastes... healthy..."

"Nice try," he said as he picked up the entire bowl, "It's just more trash."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "Healthy salads usually don't taste good."

He glared at me, "Don't say stupid things. This is just going to upset your stomach and the last thing I want is to mess up if you get sick."

"Sorry..." I whispered as I fiddled with my fingers and pondered I heard him dump something else in the disposal, "It- it had really good presentation."

He cut me off, "You should order some take-out, or I'll take you wherever you want."

Allan's pride was hurt. I could only imagine all the things the 'dragon' woman would have said if she had seen his failed attempt. It was likely that because of her he tried to do well, and now... I felt like a giant stone crushing what little self esteem he had. If I tried to console him now it would have made things worse.

In the end, I called Marco's Pizza, a place around the corner with very few customers and fast delivery. I ordered what I thought was the worst thing in the menu. I would criticize their presentation and taste. That was sure to boost up his self esteem.

Waiting was always a drag. Waiting with someone who I hardly knew, but that seemed annoyed to no end was even worse. We sat in the living room. I browsed through the cookbook he had used. Their philosophy was variety rather than low fat or low carb. Every time I flipped pages I could hear him sigh –if not growl- but I ignored him.

As soon as the doorbell rang, we jumped to our feet. I got to the door first and eagerly took the containers. I wasn't prepared. The cute boy –probably no older than seventeen- with bright blue eyes flashed me a killer smile and his dirty blond hair swayed in the air as he waited patiently. My face turned red, and my body was frozen like stone. I only reacted until he said, "Uh, it's twenty-seven fifty..."

"Oh right!" I snapped and began searching in my pockets.

Just then, a solid forearm appeared on my side with a pair of bills at the tips of his fingers, "Keep the change." He said coldly. Allan waited until the boy was gone to take the food from my fumbling hands and ordered, "Let's go to the kitchen."

I nodded. The red in my face didn't fade, not even as we ate their tofu pizza. It needed a ton of salt. It tasted too 'healthy'.

I didn't notice until he took one of my strands of hair away from my face that I had gotten pizza sauce on it. My blush intensified and my thumping heart became even louder as I scrabbled to clean it up. He didn't say a word. Perhaps he was too busy regretting his decision of letting me choose the food. One thing was certain; I was even more self-conscious and wary of his unspoken thoughts.

He finished before me. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. It seemed like his mind was sinking into a deep reverie of which I would never know. I took advantage of it and tried to mend my past clumsiness by graciously clearing the table.

My hands shook as I reached for the plastic plates on his side. He was staring at the wall, still deep in thought. I took a deep breath and told my self to calm down. It had never worked, and this was no exception. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind if he even noticed me moving. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts.

I was taking the first of three steps that it took to get to the garbage can, when my foot got snagged in the leg of the chair. THUD!

I seemed to echo. The plates scattered across the kitchen floor –and almost made it into the can. I dazed from my sudden trip. My foot hurt and my embarrassed expression was about to hurt even more. My first reaction before opening my eyes was to raise my head above the table. I opened my eyes and there was no one there. Only then did I realize my fall had been extremely painless...

Bam! The reason why struck me. He had somehow caught me and fallen under me. He had taken all the hit of the floor against his back and my body on top of his. I scrambled and stammered to apologize. His head was arched back. And when he looked at me, the yellow that my skin took after the scare of a fall was replaced my red. His glasses had fallen off.

We were face to face with me on top of him. The lines of his face in person were godly in comparison to the file photo. His nose was perfect, but most fascinating of all, were his golden eyes. Yes, his stare was still fierce, but the lines of his eyelashes made it seem like he was wearing a thin line of eyeliner. Simply beautiful. His lips seemed to tremble as he opened his mouth to lick them. It wasn't fair. The light touch of saliva made them seem smoother. The enticing glisten of his entire, almost vulnerable expression, was soon broken. There was nothing vulnerable about him. If anything, he was wicked, as wicked and cunning as any man can be.

His left hand had caught me since I had fallen. I might have not noticed had it not been for the fact that it remained there cupping and groping my breast. I could see my expression reflected in his eyes going from sheer amazement and delight into disgust and anger.

I smacked his hand away, "What the hell?!" I asked angrily.

He held my hands as I tried to get up and pulled me closer to him, his voice was a swift whisper almost a hiss, "Don't say you don't want this. I've noticed... is it just any other of them that you want?"

I shook my hands free from his grip, "No!" I yelled, "But you don't have to do this!" I pleaded, "Whatever they told you or said you had to..."

He cut me off with a sarcastic laugh as he got up to his feet. He had his glasses back on by the time he offered me his hand to help me to my feet.

I sighed with frustration. I was naïve to take his hand. He pulled me to my feet and pressed my chest against his. He smirked at the sensation my breasts pressing against his solid chest. He held my waist making it impossible for my arms to fight his embrace. Tears of anger slid from eyes streaming down my cheeks.

He leaned closer to my face. His lips brushed softly over mine and passed down my jawbone. I could feel his breath as he spoke against my neck, "Even if it's _them_ that make you feel that way. We're stuck in this now. And you know... I have _my needs_ too."

I felt my heart take a dive into my intestines and back again. Trapped in his arms my body felt weak. I was stuck in my conflicting emotions. In part, I was outraged and infuriated by his behavior. And in another way, I was at my own emotions, because I was suddenly happy. That someone that seemed to dislike me as much as he did might desire a walking chaos like me was sending my heart into a frenetic rush.

Was it like this for everyone else? Had it been like this for mom? For sis... or for Julie? I gazed to the ceiling asking in my mind that if anyone could hear me; then, please tell me this is normal!

* * *

Writer's comments: First of all, thanks for the support and positive feedback guys. It really helps. And... was anyone else bummed to find that _nothing_ happened? Allan's just getting more interesting, isn't he?

Next week's chapter: Taste


	4. Chapter 4

**Taste**

**O**stentatious, that's how I would describe his looks from up close. It was even more alluring when he flashed that wicked little grin threatening to get closer and kiss me. In the grip of his arms, I had no chance. I closed my eyes and waited for the worse. His presence vanished from me.

I opened my eyes and a simple, "Huh?" escaped me.

He was a few steps away by then. He turned still smiling, "Don't think of me that way. I'm not like them. I'm not... cheap. You should have just waited to get someone more standard and maybe someone less..." he chuckled. He was holding his glasses. His vision appeared perfect, almost piercing enough to see my very soul. Then, why the façade?

He left my side. Standing there even more perplexed than before, I snapped back to reality once I heard his door slam shut. In a mater of seconds, the phone was pressed against my ear as I impatiently waited for Julie to pick up the phone. I was going to get the answer, regardless of what research I'd have to do.

"Hello?" she finally picked up.

"Julie," I said anxiously.

"Hey Lea, what's up? Everything OK, now?"

"Not really. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Uh, sure. What is it?"

"L-let's have lunch tomorrow."

"Sounds great, where?"

I bit my lip thinking of a place, and finally decided, "How about that small garden in the library? No one really goes there."

"Great, see you then." She sounded eager to hang up.

"Oh, and..."

"What?"

"Could it be just you this time?" she kept silent, so I hurried to explain, "I know Aiden should be like family to me now, but... just this once?"

I heard her snicker, and she agreed to my plea, "Sure, girl talk only. Good night."

I felt like half of my Herculean task was completed. After all, how complicated could it get, right?

I dropped like a stone on my bed after a nice hot shower. I never imagined I'd be so tired after missing half a day of work.

That morning was another unusual awakening. My eyelids were too heavy, but I was still concerned about the time. In my tactile search toward my table, my fingers ran across something like porcelain, soft, cold, and firm. I traced over it before opening my eyes. It was round, but it was to close to be the lamp. And when I opened my eyes, it made sense. The round figure at my fingertips belonged to a bare shoulder. Impossible, shocking and unbelievable was all that could be said.

Allan was in my bed, under my sheets, and very close to me! He slept, while my heart sank in a fret. I hurried to check under the sheets. The waft of his lavender scent filled my senses. I refrained from screaming only because we had our clothes on –well, he was shirtless, but at least he had his pants on. Just as I had some relief, the alarm rang sending my heart to overdrive. Our hands met as we both reached for it.

When the noise was gone, our eyes met. Without glasses in the way, we could clearly see one another's eyes. He lacked all interest and tossed around.

"Hey!" I yelled and shook his shoulder, "What do you think you're doing! This is _my_ bed!"

He sat up and looked at me. His eyes narrowed and after a deep sigh, he explained, "You're really inconsiderate."

"What?!"

He made quotation marks with his fingers, "That 'room' you gave me is nothing more than a closet. I couldn't stretch my legs in that tiny space. I should report you for cruelty against your life-partner, but..." as he said that he rubbed my leg with his feet trying to show the length of his legs.

"Eeeek! Don't do that!" I yelled. Trying to avoid his playful touch, I rolled over my edge of the bed and fell flat on my behind.

"Well," he got up stretching and offered me a hand to stand up, which I rejected. He shrugged, "Suit yourself. I'm off to work. I'd make you breakfast, but I know you can handle mixing cereal and milk on your own, right?"

I didn't dignify his cocky remark with an answer and just sat there on the floor with my bruised ego –and butt– waiting for him to leave. Perhaps, it was that I lacked my glasses, but in that moment, I saw him fade away like the blur of a ghostly apparition. I shook my vision away and began to make the bed. I was tempted to go change the sheets, but part of me was reluctant to wash away the fragrance of his body –that and I was late for work.

After I finally got dressed and brushed my hair, I looked for him. He was gone. His room was wide open. The futon neatly rolled up against the corner.

To keep some of my dignity, I had toast for breakfast. Still, to my personal disappointment, I found myself eagerly looking for him outside. His car was nowhere in sight. I couldn't believe it. I felt abandoned, and even on the bus I looked out of the window somehow hoping that he would rush to the side of the bus and point me to get off on the next stop. It wouldn't happen. When I realized so, I sought distraction in the only private property I could have in that public mode of transportation, my purse.

In my search I found an old lip gloss I had never used. I dabbed some of the watermelon flavored make up on my lips. The amusement didn't last long enough. My lips felt moistened but also sticky as if I had gum all over. I wiped the make up away, and the tissue I used reminded me of the ticked from yesterday. I searched and nearly dumped the contents of my bag on the seat next to me. That sneaky devil! He took it. He, he... he didn't trust me. Knowing so, felt like a needle jabbed into my heart. I trusted him to let me take care of it, and he...

Crying wouldn't help. I immersed myself in work, impatiently looking at the clock every five minutes until it was lunch time. I rushed to the hidden garden like a child, and much like one, I realized I hadn't packed anything for lunch.

I fiddled with my thumbs waiting for Julie to arrive. Having to tell her we'd have to go somewhere else might be a deal breaker, but at this point it was too late. Unexpectedly, someone showed up from behind me covering my eyes. I was about to push the person away, almost sure that it was Allan. But a quick feel of the hands over my eyes set things right. These hands were a girl's hands; small, almost smaller than mine and very soft too –not to mention the wedding ring.

"Julie!" I exclaimed.

"Damn!" she said as she let go, "Did the ring give me away?"

"I know I have my issues, but I wouldn't miss that."

"Yep, not to mention that I was the only person you were about to meet here."

I agreed by nodding. The second I was about to confess we had to go eat at another place; she flashed a picnic basket before my eyes. I was grateful, "How did you know that I didn't have anything?"

My tears of joy almost turned into tears of grief when she hid the basket behind her back and asked, "You don't have food? And you invited me? Well... I'm not giving you any." She stuck out her tongue at me. I was about to cry out when she winked, "Just kidding! Dude, you look like you just lost a million bucks."

"I feel like it," I admitted and hung my head in shame.

She laughed nervously, "Come on, my here can't be such a quitter. Let's eat lunch and have that talk you wanted, ok?"

Lunch was heavenly. I have had Caesar salad before –or at least I had been told it was– but this was five stars above the rest. I had to compliment the chef, "Julie, this is... delicious! Did you take a cooking class or something?"

"Are you saying my cooking was bad before?" she arched an eyebrow.

"No, no! It's just that..." I was at a loss for words.

She started laughing, and only after a while did she say, "Thanks, but the credit goes to Aiden. I know my cooking isn't worthy of praise."

"Uh... of course it is." I exaggerated the truth of my opinion. After all, her cooking was usually something pre-made. So, I continued, "Still, I had no idea an Edward could cook so well."

"Yeah, I guess he has to."

"Eh?"

"Aiden's the top chef at the King's Palace Hotel."

"R-really?!"

She seemed bewildered by my reaction, and eventually managed to explain, "Yeah. I guess I hadn't mentioned that. Actually, there are a lot of things you don't know about him. But, we're here because you wanted 'girl talk', right? So, let's get to it."

"Uhm," I nervously threaded my hair in my finger, "Well, I was sort of hoping you could tell me more about Aiden. Or better yet, about your relationship with him."

I don't know why the word relationship made her flush, but still she asked, "OK, what do you want to know?"

"Well, the usual. Like, did you guys ... I mean, what was it like when he first moved in with you?"

"Oh yeah!" she sounded as though she had sparked back to life, "I was a mess, remember?" I nodded and she continued, "I have a one room apartment, so all the space I had for him was the living room couch. I was vexed when he settled in without arguing or anything."

I cut in the middle of her story desperately trying to merge her story with mine, "So, on that first day, uh, or night did he... Did he get 'touchy' or like some people would say, amorous without your permission?"

She laughed nervously and gave me a look that made me think, am I crazy?

I felt the urge to explain, "You know physical stuff and birds and bees and..."

"Yes, I get it." She stopped me and patted my shoulder, "He looked so serious at first that I felt a little wary. But when I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, I noticed the lamp in the living room was on. When I went to turn it off, I had completely forgotten he was there. I found him there. His body stretched across the couch. He had fallen asleep with a book across his chest. I was captivated by his looks. The second I reached for the lamp's switch, I found my fingertips tracing over his lips. It startled me when his eyes opened."

That was it, the moment I had waited for and inadvertently added my own story, "And he reached for you and kissed you or something?"

"No," she said almost disgusted, "He gazed at me like I was still in his dream. He tenderly touched the back of my hand, and asked, 'Is everything OK?'

"I felt shivers down my spine." as did I when she said it, "His godly eyes looking at me made my heart jump. And for the very first time in years. I spent the night dreaming awake."

"You mean..."

"Oh no! Nothing like that. I went to my room, and he stayed there. Uh... Lea, did you expect Allan to get... 'amorous' with you the first night? 'Cause Aiden was a complete gentleman. So, I'm sure Allan was one too... or am I wrong?"

Not at all, I thought, if anything I had expected Allan to be like Aiden. So I lied my butt off, "No, you're not. Allan's a charming gentleman. He even fixed me a delicious meal yesterday."

"Good!" she grinned, "Does he work in that too?"

"No, he's... he works in an office. But he's not so bad at cooking. I guess it's like a hobby for him."

"I'm so glad," she sighed, "I've been worried about you. I was even considering going to see you yesterday. So, what's he like?"

"Oh," her question caught me off guard. I was sure I'd be asking the questions, but for now I had to admit, "He's... tall, about six feet, short messy auburn hair –like I always pictured the original Edward from the novels would have– and he wears glasses too, but he has the most beautiful light brown eyes almost like honey."

"Hm, that does sound like... Does he have a velvet voice and skin like marble?"

"Well, now that you mention it... sort of," I realized what she was thinking, but never in a million years could Allan compare, so I stopped her, "He's nothing like the original! He wears glasses and office clothes."

"Oh," her expression became stoic, "Kind of plain then."

"So, when did you guys first kiss?" I sprung to ask a question before she could ask anything else.

She gave me a suspicious look and declared, "After he had lived with me for three days. He's such a gentleman..." she covered her mouth and flushed at the memory, "He took on the task of cooking. So, the least I could do was wash dishes. When I was doing that, I glass broke and I cut my finger with the shards. My instinct was to press my wounded finger in my lips. I was so embarrassed by my clumsiness that I wanted to cry. But then, he did the unthinkable. He took my hand away and seeing there was no blood on the cut, he held my face in his hands and kissed me. My first kiss tasted like my blood, but it was also sweet."

I was so immersed in her description of the event that I found myself closing my eyes and visualizing what she had seen. For all I know, I was probably drooling because she began chuckling. I opened my eyes and scrambled to regain my train of thought and get back to my questions. "What after that? Did he get 'touchy' then?" I asked more aggressively than I had intended.

"No," she said still laughing, and eventually she got serious enough to admit, "If anything, he's always been nothing but a gentleman. He was never inappropriate. He waited patiently until our honeymoon and... I'm not giving you details on that. But you can trust me, when I say that I always felt safe with him. I was the one that scared myself sometimes. I... I just couldn't believe he was with me. And at times I wanted to rush things."

"And of course you didn't." I grimly added.

"I didn't want to disappoint you or my mother."

Disappointment was something that weighed heavily upon my shoulders. Many things wonder through my mind, and my mouth blurted out a question that wasn't on my list, "So, does he ever talk about his family, his childhood? Does he even have any of those?"

Until now, I only knew Edwards were born of surrogate mothers. Women who had no husbands or deceased ones could be recipients to bear genetically altered embryos. Still, to most of us –mostly single women– it was a mystery how they became men of such grace. None of us had met any in school or as children.

And now, my world view turned as Julie fidgeted with a napkin almost debating whether to tell me or not. Friendship and loyalty won, and she began, "He didn't talk about it. It took him a while to feel comfortable enough to say anything. I can understand why. Allan will probably tell you eventually, but as I see it, it helps to understand why they seem so aloof at times. Maybe Allan is different, but..."

I interrupted, "He's not. He's aloof and... Well, please tell me. I'll be grateful if you do."

She gave me a quick nod and continued, even if it seemed to hurt her somehow, "They are born women, but not all women stay. Some women prefer to return to society rather than stay in the farms."

"Farms?"

"Yes," she hurried to explain after a quick glance at his watch, "They grow in rural areas. Women who choose to stay are known as 'mother hens'. They raise a group of boys and teach them while living in the farms. They have schools, and everything, but it's all very different from the city. When they come of age, they either get set to be married or go on to universities. Eventually, they are separated from their mothers and brothers. Although, they are allowed to write home, it's rare for them to ever return. Can you imagine? How lonely they feel... and yet, Aiden told me... when they find someone, or better said they are set with a partner, they take all their hopes and dreams into that one person. To become their world is..." Tears began to stream down her cheeks and voice choked.

I cried with her. Through her words I had seen the green fields, the families being broken, and the bitter melancholy in the eyes of those boys. Yet, I missed something, something that I saw as she picked up the basket and left with a smile. Her tears were greatly tears of joy. For her, to know she was that man's world must be... amazing. And to know that to Allan, I would probably never be like that crushed a portion of my soul.

After work, he was waiting for me. From the window I saw him wearing dark blue jeans and a back t-shirt with a single spider-web print over his right shoulder. The casual wear meant that he either missed work again, or he had gone home early to make dinner. I got in the car stiff like a robot and swallowed my questions. He remained sitting and asked, "How was your day?"

"Good," I said looking at the window as he did.

Nothing else was said in the car ride. He drove like a maniac. Except that this time, since I didn't say a word, he didn't get caught be the cops. He stopped at every police check-point. I wondered if he had memorized their usual spots, but I knew he was doing better because I had kept my mouth shut.

I had no energy to argue or say anything, even after the heart-stopping ride. In the low point of my day, I turned the key to the front door and found the phone ringing inside. Julie was on the line. She was inviting us over for dinner, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. At the very least, I changed my coat and off we were. Allan was oddly submissive and uncommunicative.

When we arrived he chivalrously opened the door for me. We had no trouble finding their new home. You could see it from the highway. A newly remodeled, white Victorian house. Not only was she making money as a published fiction writer, but now I knew Aiden was a successful chef at a five-star restaurant.

The doorbell sounded like a melodious set of bells. I could picture tiny angels like cupid ringing those bells to tie up the harmony in the house. The door opened with a slight creak, but the light inside the flow of light jazz music stopped. Julie stood at the door. She looked like a model. Her perfect crisp curls draped over her shoulders. Even someone not into fashion like me could tell she was wearing a high class dress. I knew she fancied Armani clothing, and that deep blue dress with semi circle neckline wasn't something you find at a discount store. The slight wrinkling that ended above the knees made the lines of her legs even sharper. Her black couture shoes small and flat made the look come together like a pixie from a fantasy.

I, on the other end, had arrived in my gray tight skirt of unknown designer. My white shirt screamed OFFICE! Had it not been for my black jacket with three quarter sleeves and vine designs I would have felt like running back home saying that I suddenly had an upset stomach. I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek after my crushing fashion assessment was over. She gestured toward Aiden, who had suddenly appeared next to her.

Aiden was another majestic victory of the world of fashion. He was wearing a long sleeve, deep burgundy sweater, perfect for the fall weather –and still tight enough to make sure his muscular physique was seen by all. His slade-fit black jeans accentuated his muscular thighs. His shoes were also casual Ed Hardy's with a skull design and the word 'Death' on them. To realize and take note of that must have taken me a while, because he impatiently reached over and took my hand to shake it. Needless to say, I felt like a dumb kid who had just been taught how to greet people.

I scrambled to introduce Allan with awkward gesturing, "Uh, guys, this is Allan... my partner." I sounded more disappointed than I should have, but how could I not in the presence of such perfect company.

Allan reached over and shook hands with them. Of course, they graciously covered for my mistake and introduced themselves. In a split second, I felt I imagined it, but... I could have sworn the handshake between Aiden and Allan was somewhat longer. It was like they had exchanged a swift glare filled with apathy. Still stuck in my own awkwardness, I felt like curling up into a little ball and rolling down a hill and into a dark abyss. It wouldn't happen, so I smiled the best I could and followed them.

Their house from the inside was as spacious as the outside. In fact, it was as if the stairs, the living space and even the dining room had been taken from the description of the Cullen's house in Twilight. But I had no proof of that, and no will to question it. So, I did my best to gawk at the exquisite paintings and the marble chimney. The table set up was also elegant, far too much for a simple dinner with friends. It made me nervous. I'm always extremely self-conscious of my eating when there is more than one type of fork in sight.

Allan sat next to me at the table. And perhaps it was me, but he seemed like shield. Julie somehow seemed more quiet than usual, but I was to sullen to care. Across from us, Aiden sat next to her lavishing all his attention and soft caresses on her. It was nothing more than a reverse mirror, two perfect opposites.

Salad was the first course. I could tell it was a Mediterranean salad because of the black olives. Red wine was the drink of choice, and although was somewhat underage, I would feel shame to be the only kid at the table drinking sparkling cider. Allan said as little as possible, so I felt compelled to praise the food as much as I could. My anxiety made me nervous, and before I knew it, I had drunk a couple of healthy gulps of wine. I had had red wine before, but it was never this sweet, almost like grape juice.

Next on the menu was Julie's favorite, fried calamari. It was tender and delicious, not to mention easy to eat and more suited for a casual dinner. I passed it with a few more drinks of wine.

The main course was just a masterpiece. A tajine clay pot -which they proudly announced was from Morocco- filled to the top with an aromatic blend of vegetables and chicken, all over a mound of couscous. Aiden took pride in his cooking, and it was obvious he aimed to impress. I could smell the spices of the meal. My salivary glands were working overtime so I tried to calm them with the last of my wine. Bad idea.

I stood up. I could feel my face getting hot, and I stammered to say, "I, uh, I'll be right... back. I'm going to the powder room."

"Sure," said Julie, "Are you... ok?"

"Sure," I smiled and held on to the chair for balance.

"It's the first door on the wall below the stairs. If you need help..." Julie was interrupted.

"I'll go with her." Allan stood up. His voice was as serious as ever.

"No!" I exclaimed and covered my mouth to regulate my voice, "Just relax. I'm fine. I won't get lost. And if I do, I'll scream." I sounded like a complete airhead. So, I ran out as fast as I could, trying to keep my pace as straight as possible.

As I shut the door, I heard the phone ringing. It wasn't my house so it didn't bother me. I splashed my face with cold water until my lips began to feel numb. I patted my face dry, and looked around a bit. Everything was so sparkly clean and in order.

Perhaps the light was too bright in the restroom, but the dim light of the living room dazed me and I almost lost balance. To my surprise, something caught me and set me steady on my own feet. I opened my eyes and for a moment I hoped, and was mistaken. I had hoped Allan had followed me with concern, but it was Aiden who caught me. A staggered away. Sadly, a glass of wine had hit me like a ton of bricks and all I could worry about now was my breath.

"Th-thank you... Aiden." I muttered.

He seemed to comprehend my blurred speech, "Don't mention it."

As he took a step away, I reached for his sleeve. My mind was in the clouds, vacant. And in that mist an unspoken thought escaped my lips, "Wait, I have a question of you."

He seemed suddenly intrigued and amused by confidence, "OK, what is it?"

"Is... for you... was it that you can just fall for anyone they... choose? Could it... have been just anyone?"

He took a swift stride toward me and trapped my chin in his fingers. I regretted having asked that. Because for one, I had no idea why I had said it; and two, it made it seem like I wanted him. I wanted to bite off my own tongue, but his grip kept me still. Did I... really want him?

His face tentatively close to mine. His eyes searching for any hint of weakness in my expression. I could have fallen apart, as he hissed, "Perhaps I could. It could be anyone they tell us to. Would it make you happy if I said that?"

I tried to shake my head, "N-no..."

He smirked, "Good girl. At least you're not as fickle as I thought. We are not entirely bound to this. They search for us. It's a science now. She is the one I was destined to have. It couldn't have been just anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me."

As he spun and a walked away I decided. I did not want Aiden. He was Julie's and could only be hers. And I... I had no one. It could have been the alcohol acting as a natural depressant, but I wanted nothing anymore.

When I rejoined the dinner table, the atmosphere was dense. I managed to hear Julie tell Aiden, "So, did the supplier have everything you need for tomorrow?"

Aiden replied as lovely as he always did, as if his voice –the one I had heard seconds ago- could harm her. "Yes, you shouldn't be concerned. I told you we always have various suppliers available."

"I'm glad," she smiled.

I was fumbling back on my chair when Allan stood up and took me by the elbow, "You don't look so well. It'd be a shame if you got sick here and ruin their dinner. Let's just go home." His voice was a perfect imitation of Aiden's love-filled tone.

In my alcohol haze, I leaned against his chest, "OK, you're right. I'm tired."

"If you don't feel well, you can sleep here. We have more than enough space." Julie's concern pained me.

I feigned a smile, "I'll be fine. I need fresh air."

"Despite what you may think," Allan spoke and looked at them and wrapped his arm around me, "I won't let anything hurt Lea."

It amazed me. My heart, which felt like it had ceased to beat just minutes before was suddenly about to pound out of my chest. Was it right to be this happy? For the time being, yes it was.

I turned to Julie yet again. This time my smile was more sincere, "You look like a fairytale pixie, Julie. You gotta show me how to dress up like that someday."

She grinned as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, "Oki-doki. We'll talk about it next time we have girl's lunch next week." I nodded. Then she turned to Allan. I rested against his chest, so I couldn't see his expression; but Julie's eyes looked troubled, "Allan... I really didn't mean to offend you. Thanks for taking care of Lea, I'm sure..."

Allan cut her off, "It was nothing. Could you get the door for us?"

We left the fairytale palace. And the pixie and her godlike companion were free to prance around basking in their love.

And I, I was cautiously happy. I was certain he had acted, but at that time the red wine made the lie all the sweeter. He drove slowly, and although I was grateful for that, I kept my eyes closed because the motion was beginning to rattle my intestines. Just as I thought I was going to heave, his cool hand pressed on my forehead. His hand felt like cold porcelain and I realized, "Oh! You're not wearing a sweater! It's so cold." I began to shrug out of my jacket.

"Don't worry about it. I'm... cold-blooded." I heard him chuckle lightly. And before I could argue, his cold forearm resting against the back of my neck felt like the only thing holding me from spilling out my half eaten dinner.

I didn't fight. I rested on his arm as my cool pillow and I asked, "Could it have been anyone other than me?"

I was almost positive that I was the only one that knew what I meant, but he surprised me. With the same kind voice, he replied, "Who knows... I'm beginning to think it couldn't..."

After that, I remember the car stopping. The doors opening and closing. The street a blur. All in a haze, and the sweet taste of the wine in my mouth beginning to sour, until I fell deeply asleep into a dreamless darkness.

* * *

Writer's comments: Sorry it took so long to post this -to my very few readers anyway. I will have chapter five in about two to three weeks because of school.

**Preview:**

_A friendly and faintly familiar voice called my name over the phone. I was told it was urgent. I rushed to the 'Placement office' without hesitation. What I learned there would forever change my worldview..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Surface**

**S**weet morning filled with the scent of a field. I could see a meadow under the sunlight in my mind. I dreaded the idea of opening my eyes for it would ruin such perfect sleep. It had to happen sooner or later. And when he light hit my eyes my head began pounding. Honestly, was it fair that one glass of red wine had to have such consequences? Well, could have been worse...

I staggered to sit down and managed to find my glasses by tact. I was home. I didn't end up in some weird place or anything –most certainly a plus. Yet, upon closer inspection as my feet touched the floor I noticed how bare my legs and feet felt. I had slept so comfortably, but now I realized I was just wearing a t-shirt. It wasn't one of my sleeping gowns or anything. Wait... black... red spider-web on the shoulder... this was...Holy crap!

I was about to lay back from the shock, when I felt his shoulder poke my back. I managed to hold my scream by covering my mouth. Even in that fret, I could certainly appreciate the beauty of Allan as he slept. Because as he did, he looked...dare I say, innocent? More like a cat I would say. Yes, he had picked that habit of sleeping on my bed no matter how much I argue and kick him out. Just like a cat with a man's body...

His shirtless skin embraced by the cotton fabric of my sheets was too alluring, but the remnant of the night made my stomach queasy. I ended in the bathroom heaving until ten minutes later I realized it was pointless. Since it was early in the morning, I decided it was time to get ready for work. I locked the bathroom door and ditched his shirt. Underneath, I had been wearing just my panties. It was enough to make my heart race with speculations, but it wasn't enough to make me panic. Whatever had happened during the night had not gone far enough for me to break apart mentally.

So many things could be running through my mind as the shower warmed my body and awakened me. Yet, all I could see were his belongings next to mine. His shower gel and shampoo didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary. The scent was his sent; that tantalizing aroma that saturated my senses and made me overlook everything that could make me want to give up on him. I opened the container and took a breath of his scent. I could see him in my mind. Suds washing over his body and falling down in whirl down the drain. How I felt I envied them. Then suddenly, I realized... Just how long has he been showering here?

Maybe since the beginning and now, my wet underpants in the corner of the shower seemed like live creatures from swamp mocking me. He had seen that. No privacy!

I rushed to wash them by hand with the shower still running; and as I did, I though of something else. If it was true that with the arrival of Edwards our society had abandoned the need for women to compete with one another in terms of physical beauty, then we had no reason to worry about our physical appearance. Now, women of plus size are as valued and respected as women of size four or less. That is because we are assigned our partners. Edwards seem to care very little about women other than their partners. Because of that, the fashion world abandoned its clamor for zero size models. There is no need for competition in sizes. Still most doctors recommended that less than a size ten was best for health purposes. Up until now, I had been comfortable with my size six. I had aimed to be a size five or four, but it just never worked for me. Size didn't matter, until now.

Allan wasn't chosen specifically for me. I had taken him on a whim. Seeing Julie yesterday in her cute size four –or less dress– made realize that I know nothing of Allan's predilection of women. Standing there before the mirror of my bathroom I began to panic. What if he liked petite women? What if he... thought I was fat? I had been told that my size C cup was something men would like, but was it enough to get Allan's interest? He had a car, and if he got tired of me he could leave without explanation. Would he?

So many questions and only one person could answer them. But too many conflicting emotions diverted me from saying anything. That and when I got out of the shower, I almost dropped the towel from the shock. He was outside the bathroom just a step away from the door. He had a towel over his shoulder standing casually leaning a bit to the side. Besides the towel on his shoulder he was only wearing his brief-boxers. He was so calm and casual, while my face took on all shades of red. Yet, a model, a perfect statue, nothing could compare to the masterpiece of humanity before me.

I must have been gawking. Because his voice startled me, "Are you done in there?"

"Eh? Um, who? Me?" I pointed to myself and before he could answer, I stopped him from taking a step further, "Wait! I have to take something out!"

I rushed in to pick up my underpants. I picked them all and wrapped them in his shirt. I had to do the laundry anyway...

He snuck up behind me while I was bent down collecting the last pair and grunted, "I'm really going to be late if you keep this up?"

I spun my head slightly without straightening up. He was looking at me curiously, no longer angry. I remembered, just a towel on! I turned around, still red and defensive.

He seemed amused almost relieved, "Good to see you're back to normal."

"What are you saying?" I urged.

"Hm," he pondered, "You don't remember?"

"R-remember what?" I stammered.

He walked in and turned on the shower. It always took a while for the hot water to take; so, I waited. He sighed, "You should really thank me. You gave me plenty of trouble last night."

I pointed to myself, "Me? What did I do?"

He exhaled angrily, "Honestly... You don't recall wanting to go take a walk because you were hot?"

I shook my head, "Is that all?"

"When I didn't let you..." he grinned, "You began to whine that it was too hot. And you began to strip. I told you you'd regret it, but you know what they say about drunks."

I covered my mouth and muttered, "I-I'm so sorry..." I began walking out.

He caught my arm firmly. I froze. He held me like that for a second, and finally spoke through his teeth, "I wasn't finished with my report."

I turned to him, but he didn't face me.

"I hardly slept last night. It isn't easy to... Well, I just want to let you know that you were talking in your sleep."

"Huh? And... Did I say anything...?"

"It deflects what you wanted. You were dreaming. You whimpered and called out for 'Edward'."

"I, I..." I was at a loss for words.

He let go of me, "My name is Allan. Don't forget that." His solemn voice felt almost hurt.

I walked out and closed the door behind me. My body felt stiff. I was happy. I was certainly embarrassed and speechless; but nonetheless, very happy. Happy that he was jealous –or at least sounded like he was– and happy that he had gone through all the trouble of protecting me.

I made breakfast. Pancakes and eggs; nothing fancy, but quite edible. Must have been my mood elevation, but it all tasted great to me. When I called for breakfast, he walked into the kitchen. He was still drying his hair and drops of water glistened over his skin. My mouth fell open. He was out wearing nothing but brief-boxers again –blue this time.

My mood turned, "Y-you! Degenerate! If you don't put some clothes... you, you're not getting any breakfast!" I was yelling at him menacing with a spatula.

He looked at me with complete lack of interest. I could see the light gold of his eyes was becoming darker, and so was his attitude, "It's fine. I'm not hungry today."

"Hold it!" I stopped him before he walked out, but when he turned to me I froze, "I... uhm, thank you. I know I probably embarrassed you last night. I didn't mean to." Actually, I wasn't sure why I was saying that, "But still," I continued, "If we're stuck in this, the least we can do is try to get along. So, we... I mean, I propose that we start by getting to know one another." I exhaled after saying that mouthful. Who knows how I had been meaning to say that and how long ago I should have said it.

Perhaps I was too late. His mouth opened, perhaps to reject me completely, when I was saved by the bell –actually the phone rang. He picked it up inadvertently flashing his arm muscles, which seem to trace in a single line toward his abs. "Hello?" he asked in his soothing velvet voice. He offered me the phone. I took it and he left.

My heart had just dropped to my feet, when I asked, "Hello?"

"Lea dear," it was my mom, "I'm sorry I haven't called. I was just giving you some time to settle down. Is everything OK?"

"Mm, yes mom. We're just starting to... but how are you?"

"I'm fine. I admit I was worried, but he sounds so... nice, I suppose."

I realized my mother knew just about nothing about him so I introduced him, "His name is Allan, mom. He's taking good care of me, so don't worry."

"Good," she said, and I could hear the relief in her voice, "I wanted us to have a formal dinner to meet him, I mean, Allan and welcome him into the family. Would it be ok to get together when your sister returns?"

"Yes mom."

"Dear..." she began to say cautiously and I waited, "You... haven't had _cake_ before the wedding, have you?"

It only took me a second to catch what she was really asking, "Mom! No of course I haven't! Why do you have to put it so...graphically?" I exaggerated. If anything, she wasn't being graphic, but still.

"Sorry honey," she pleaded.

I cut her off, "Listen, I'm kind of..."

"Late," she added, "I know. I was just, you know, being a mom and fretting too much over nothing. Call me when you have time honey."

"Bye mom."

It must have been less than two minutes, but in that time lapse I heard the front-door shut. I peeked out of the window. He was still buttoning up his white shirt, most certainly in a hurry. As he got into the car, I noticed the glimmer of his glasses. No goodbye, no 'have a good day', and no ride to work.

I felt like I had lost many days of my week. My time was out of sync as well. I was early for work by one hour. So, I ended sitting on the front stairs until the manager arrived. Without wasting a single minute, I immersed myself in work. Replacing returns by alphabetical order and call number was tedious enough to keep my mind buzzing. And still, when lunch time arrived I hoped he would show up and say something like, "I made you something" or "Let's go have something at that café."

Nothing, not even call arrived. I ended wasting all my lose change on a bending machine. My lunch consisted of three bags of chips, a chocolate, and some mints; that was it. Oh, wait, and an extra helping of loneliness to help me swallow it all.

I must have been sick, but truth is that as I ate those stale chips I wondered if he had had anything to eat yet. Then his words resounded in my mind, _"I'm not hungry today."_ Did he mean just then or literally for the entire day?

Like most of my other questions, that one was sent to the dump where I visualized all my other questions were piled up with my broken dreams.

Life continued like that for the following week. I had given up on arguing about the bed and just migrated to the floor. He gave me a ride to work a couple of times and always picked me up punctually. I noticed as days progressed that his eyes began to turn more and more opaque until they became entire black. As that went on, his interest in food diminished. Eventually, he locked himself in his room to sleep. Needless to say, I was nearly non-existent to him. We both worked Saturdays, but by then we were more estranged than the first time we had met. He kept his glasses on, but he couldn't hide his eyes and the bruising below them. Was he ill? If he was, I'd be the last one to know.

Sunday was different altogether. I heard him walking around at 4 a.m. I hid under my blanket wondering if he was about to crawl into my bed at any time. Not the case. I heard him close the front door. I saw him leave in casual clothing. Black jeans and a dark army jacket was all I saw in that foggy morning. The engine revved up and he was gone, perhaps forever.

I wrote his name on the condensation of the window. And I found myself surprised to feel a single tear slide down my cheek. I wiped the tear away and erased his name. If I was to be alone, I would make the best of it.

On Sundays, all streets were plagued by lovers. At least, they seemed more obvious to lonely people like myself. Given the choice, I would have called a close friend to hang out with me, it had been routine when I was younger. But, now my closest friend was busy with her worshiping Adonis. I took the bus downtown to the shopping center. The first thing in order was to withdraw the limit of cash from an ATM machine.

With my handful of cash, I took to the many stores. I bought a few sets of lingerie and stockings for my emergency supply at work. Skirts for work were my next goal, but then I came across something unexpected. A dress that I had wanted for years now was standing on a display window. Not just any dress, but a black satin shirt-dress from the late fall collection. The old almost 50's look of it always gained my interest. Mother had bought me a similar dress when I was eight, and not until now had I been around anything similar. I rushed inside praying they had my size. Just finding it was such a rush, that I even lost my reservations with the Edward working as sales representative. Maybe it was because he had a mustache that made him look somewhat odd, which I do admit made me giggle. Size six didn't fit. Size five, however, did fit. The sleeves covered up to the middle of my forearms and its length was below my knees –about middle of my calves.

Nothing like a day of shopping to lift one's spirits. I was too happy for someone who had spent most of the remainder of her savings. Too content with my luck, I had to be careful, before my day was ruined by a foolish accident. I looked cautiously at the floor trying to memorize every crack on the ground that would make me trip. I didn't count on the source of my brief happiness as a vector of misfortune...

The bags became entangled on my leg and I began to see myself falling in slow motion. I closed my eyes at the startling inevitability. I heard a thud. Part of me had wished, and it was disappointing. Allan had not appeared to save me. I was on my knees just across the street from my empty house. The stinging pain on my scrapped knee was nothing in comparison to the growing ache in my chest.

The sound of the unlocking door echoed in my small house. It was a house, not a home. It felt as such, for I had just realized, painfully, that my heart had left very early that morning. The phone rang, and I answered eagerly, "Hello?"

"Lea," it was mom, and she immediately knew, "Honey, are you crying?"

I wiped my tears away, "No mom. I just tripped outside. The antiseptic burns, so I'm trying to suppress my screams. You know how I am."

"Yes, but try to be more careful, isn't Allan there with you?"

"No, uh, I think he's working. Did you need anything, mom?"

She sighed, "I needed to know that you're ok, and... Tomorrow, are you free at night? Your sister's back and we want to have dinner with you."

I had no excuses in my blank mind, "Eh... ok."

I could hear her take in a breath and smile. Then, her tone became stern, "Good, because depending on what I see tomorrow... I might have to step in."

Step in? What did she mean...? It clicked. Mom, the person that knows me best in the world had abandoned her innate optimism. She would step in if she saw misery in my eyes. Had she seen me then, she would have taken to that dark side of hers. She was a kind woman, but frightening when it came to protecting the ones she loved –I had gotten that from her.

I hung up the phone after saying good night.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, alone, and fully dressed. However, my knee had been healed, no scrape, and no pain. Had I dreamed it all?

I rushed to dial Julie's phone number.

"Hello?" her groggy voice answered.

"Hey, what day is it?"

Took her a second to reply, "It's... Monday morning and it's 7:18 a.m. and I had to get up 'til 11. Thanks a lot, Lea."

"Uh... sorry. I was just..."

"You sound cheerful, or actually... weird. Is everything ok?"

"Yep, peachy and all. Bye, go back to sleep."

"Bye..." I could hear her calling me a nut in her mind, and she might be just right.

Changes had definitely taken place. For one, Allan's room door was open. He was gone, but it was obvious he had been in there. The bathroom was still damp with his scent and the dew of his hot morning shower. I showered too, and dressed in my new exquisite, money-spilling dress. I picked up some shoes I almost never wear –all black, light heels, and strap to the ankle– add the purse and the outfit was complete.

The dress had gotten me plenty of compliments and a scolding from the manager, "This is a workplace not a fashion show." She said.

I laughed nervously and retired to find more books to the relocated. The other positive compliments from library patrons had my head in the clouds they said they wished to look as good for their husbands and even without words, I could tell some of the guys agreed. Lunch time arrived. Bring-down. I had no food and hardly any change left. I was going to have to have lunch across the street and put it on my credit card. I closed my eyes and just as I opened them to see if the crossing was clear, the blue car was there. Allan opened the door and rushed to my side. His stride was flawless and at the same time gentle –unlike his angry steps from before.

"You're out to lunch?" he asked standing in front of me.

"Ye-yeah," I stammered, "D-did you need something?" The truth is that I was dying to know what he thought of my look.

His lips drew a smile.

I blushed and lifted a strand of hair over my ear.

He removed his glasses and offered me his hand, "Then, care to join me for lunch?"

It was automatic how my hand fell on his without thinking. I was in his grasp, and he gently led me to the car. I got in without questioning, by the time I realized I should be angry with him, he got on the driver's seat and all I could do was blush and ask, "Uhm, have you been ok?"

He nodded facing forward, "Yes, sorry if I worried you. I just... it doesn't matter. I'm actually glad I was gone. To find you looking so beautiful today makes up for it. Are you angry with me?"

My heart's thumping could be heard miles away, and he asked if I was angry? I could shed tears of joy just to hear him say that again. I shook my head slightly and realized we were on the freeway, "Uh, there's a café across the street. Just where are we going for lunch?"

He grinned, perfect teeth, sweet moist lips, and said, "Somewhere a little less pretentious. Is that ok with you? Or did you have something to see in that café?"

My cheeks became flushed yet again. My eyes were locked on my fisted hands as my head shook mechanically. I had all I wanted to see right next to me, his dirty blond hair, and perfect chiseled jaw, not to mention his... eyes were amber like honey again. If I stared too much it would be bad for me, so I looked away trying to ignore how much his eyes puzzled me. Why was I happy with so little?

We arrived in less than ten heart-pounding minutes. It was a small restaurant called Jackie's Kitchen. We were guided to our table by the owner herself, Jackie. The round blond lady with thick glasses made me think that if I was ever to meet Allan's mother, it would be just like her. As soon as she retired our waitress arrived. Everyone seemed to know Allan here; especially, our fifteen year-old waitress –straight black hair to the shoulder and cute face– who immediately ignored me and leaning over the table she asked, "You'll be having the usual today?"

Allan nodded, but his eyes were fixated on me, "My companion will have the house specialty. If you don't mind, please make it quick. We both have places to get to."

Although he sounded extremely polite, she seemed to take it against me. She snatched the menu from my hand and sulked, "OK, I'll tell pops to hurry." She rolled her eyes as she passed by me.

It was obvious no one here knew how dark Allan's attitude could be; but more importantly, did that skinny little high school girl think she had a shot with _my_ Allan? I was busy thinking of ways of bringing her to her senses in a subtle, yet crushing blow. Unfortunately, any plan that I had formulated vanished as soon as I noticed Allan resting his chin on his hands and staring straight at me with a dreamy gaze.

I took a sip of water and wondered, "Are you thinking about anything in particular?"

He shook his head slightly. "How about you?"

"Well, I was thinking about your attitude. I don't loathe you for it, I just..."

"Yes," he interrupted, "I recall you wanted us to get to know one another a lot better. However, I'm trying to find the best approach."

I shrugged my shoulders, "What's there to approach? Just..."

I was interrupted yet again, this time by the malcontent waitress, "Here's yours Allan," her flirty smile made me want to gag, and apparently my presence did the same to her, "Veggie burger... with extra onions. If you need anything else, let me know." She winked at Allan.

He was oblivious to her. Completely enthralled in my words, he insisted "You were saying?"

I cleared my throat and as I began to pick out the onions in the 'veggie burger' I bluntly proposed, "Just answer my questions. There's nothing else to worry about."

"I get to ask questions too, right?"

"Mhm, but girls first," I declared and rushed before he had any objections or distractions, "OK, first of all, I... I heard you guys were grown in placed with surrogate families, brothers and moms. Do you have a mom, or brothers?"

He set his fork down. His eyes narrowed and after a long deep sigh he replied, "No such thing as a mother. I had four brothers, but that was long ago."

"How about...uhm, where did you live before we met?"

I noticed he grinned, "That's not very creative. But what would you say if I say I lived with another woman before you?"

The sole idea pained me like a needle to my chest. I smiled trying to hide my discomfort, "I don't know. But you still haven't answered."

He calmly picked up his fork and before taking a bite he guardedly said, "I lived in a small space in the offices. Now, eat before it gets cold."

I took a bite. For a vegetable burger, it was scrumptious. Regardless of what it was, it was superior to tofu. It tasted like meat, but it lacked the guilt I felt every time I abandoned my attempts at a vegan diet. I didn't realize I was chewing and smiling, or that I had a bit of the tomato sauce on my cheek. That is, until he reached over and wiped it away with his thumb. I could have choked. His expression was beautiful as his thumb was surrounded by sleek tongue and his lips pressing together savoring more than the sauce. I was beginning to wonder if he fed more on my expression than on the sauce. I could say nothing.

"What about your family?" he finally asked as he had stopped gloating on his mesmerizing skill of making me forget everything.

I chewed faster trying to answer faster, "Well, I have a mom and an older sister. My dad died when I was little."

"How old is your sister?"

"She's six years older than me."

"So, you don't get along with her?"

"Sort of. We... I never had many interests in common with her. She got married two years ago and travels non-stop. That's why we don't talk much, but I wouldn't say we hate each other or anything like that."

"Your mother?"

"Mom is a very sweet lady. She's very energetic and nice, but when she gets mad, she can be scary."

The questions continued coming at me like a series of bullets. Before I could ask anything, I was already answering another question. How could I deny him when he smiled at me every time I spoke?

It was as if everything around us ceased to be. I even missed when we paid the check and stepped out. Then as we were getting into the car he asked, "Why do you live alone? Wouldn't it be easier –and safer– to live with your mom?"

"Hold it," I finally told him, "This is supposed to be a mutual thing! It's my turn to ask questions!"

He got in the car, no longer smiling he admitted, "It's just that you're fascinating to me. All this time, I was numb. Better said, I didn't exist." Melancholy filled his eyes.

What to do? I wasn't valiant enough to reach over and hug him, so I said, "But... you don't feel like that anymore, do you?"

He shook his head and his soft grin returned, "Ever since I met you. Still, I'm beginning to wonder when you'll grow tired of me and finally quit."

"The hell I will!" I covered my mouth shocked by what I had just blurted.

He chuckled, "Thanks for the good faith."

We were silent for a while, but I wanted to know more about him, "So, what kind of books do you like?"

He turned away from the road. I couldn't read his expression, until he spoke, "I have no real preferences. I do read plenty, but there's something I hate."

"Eh? Is it... politics maybe?" stupid of me to ask.

"Just forget it."

"No! I want to know. Is it something in my collection maybe?"

He reluctantly nodded strengthening his grip on the wheel.

"Well, tell me what it is, and I'll burn it!"

He forced a smile, "I don't think you'd want to. After all, you... Never mind."

"Tell me!" I sounded like a child throwing a tantrum.

He gave in, "Twilight... I hate those books. If they didn't exist..."

I covered my lips with my index finger as I pondered and processed his answer. For starters, that series was aimed for most likely a female population, but I knew what it meant to him. To be created like that was... I couldn't comment. Instead, I asked, "That food was delicious. I bet you go there often, don't you?"

The car came to halt just when I was beginning to bask in another of his slight grins. It was cue to exit and leave things as they were –good for once. As my hand began grip the handle, he took me by the wrist and pulled me closer to him. I could feel the exiting air from his lungs pressing against my neck and in the same way he inhaled part of my essence. I trembled and waited.

"You're truly beautiful today, Lea." His lips pressed against my neck, "You're mine." He continued kissing his way up to my chin making every one of my cells quiver. Just as I thought he would finally kiss my lips, he pulled away and looking stern as before, he asked, "I'll be picking you up at six for dinner at your mother's. Don't go anywhere else, OK?"

I nodded, still deafened by my rapid heartbeat. I couldn't say anything else and hopped out of the car. I met the stares of my curious co-workers. They muttered among themselves about us making-out. I wish.

The flush in my face remained for another hour until the monotonous pace of work took my attention. I skipped into the break area for a drink of water when the phone rang. It was never for me, so I let it ring in hope someone else, like Michiko, might wonder in and answer. No one arrived, so I picked it up after the fifth ring.

"City Hall library, how can I help you?" I answered sounding unusually perky.

"Could you be...Miss Ileana Rivers?" the gentle voice of a young man in the phone asked.

It frightened me, but the voice sounded so familiar, "Eh... yes. It is I. H-how can I...?"

"Listen, there's no time for details." He explained, "My name is Michael. We met at the Placement Office. I know it might be too much to ask, but it is urgent that you come to this place immediately." This sweet voice that had rescued me from when I first blundered into that office was now urging me to go.

"Did something happen to Allan?" I panicked.

"It... concerns him... please, if we could speak in person..." the call was broken.

After that, it is all a blur. In less than an hour time, I was walking into the Placement Office. The entire place was renovated, but it still held an eerie sensation of a sacrificial zone from a horror film. The front desk was alone. Two women sat idly chatting about the characteristics they wanted in their men. I walked in cautiously looking in all directions –apparently, not cautiously enough. As I passed by the hallway to the restroom where I had first met Allan, I felt I grip in my wrist. A strong pull and deep darkness.

A heard a deep exhale, and a dim light was lit. It was a small dark room, a janitor's closet judging from the equipment. I spun around and met a broad chest. I took a step back. I could hardly see in the dark, but I could see the dark red glimmer in his eyes. After a second step back, I noticed him. The man in light blue scrubs was looking down on me, Michael. I could read pity in his eyes. He had called me, and was it really bad news?

I ignored the situation. It should have shaken me to see myself locked in a closet with a man, but all I could think about was Allan.

"Allan, where is he? Is he OK?" I urged him to answer by clinging to his shirt.

He softly took my hands with that same deep sorrow in his eyes, "He's fine. And I see that you are as well. I'm beginning to wonder if this was a mistake, but my conscience won't let me keep quiet anymore."

My arms suddenly lost all strength, "What are you talking about?"

He pressed my hands within his own, and then he let go. From his pocket, he took out an old piece of news paper and handed it to me, "I want you to please red this."

I took it. My hand was shaking. Directly under the dim light, I had enough visibility to read the article.

_'Tragedy strikes. The nation's leading genetic expert was found dead early this morning. Doctor Jeanine Turmaine was found in her lab. Her cervical arteries were damaged resulting in severe blood loss. However, further investigation notes that the marks on her neck were made by what seemed to be animal fangs. Also, her body lacked blood which did not correspond to the amount found in the crime scene. It is speculated that she was victim to a wild animal that wondered into the lab. Rumors also claim that she was experimenting with animals. No evidence of that was found. Early reports say that the only possible witness was a blond, young teenage boy. He was taken into police custody before the media could question him. Other witnesses claim he had stains of blood on his face. This was not confirmed by the police._

_Dr. Jeanine Turmaine was a beloved single mother. She leaves behind a son and a daughter. Her strides in the field of genetics will be remembered (in specific, her success on cloning young men capable of withstanding to the epidemic responsible for the loss of most of our male population). Her colleagues affirmed that they will continue her research.'_

I read the same two sentences over a dozen of times, '..._possible witness was a blond, young teenage boy... Other witnesses claim he had stains of blood on his face.'_

It couldn't be. I tossed the paper back at him, "What are you telling me?"

"Do I really have to spell it for you?" he asked. He tried to embrace me, but I pushed him away.

"This isn't concrete! Even if that boy was Allan, there is no concrete evidence that he..." my voice broke.

"I know it's impossible to believe. After all, it was about one hundred years ago..." he took my shoulders.

My eyes snapped opened and within my tears, I found the news clipping again. I snatched the paper from him. The date read, _'April 17, 2008'._ I laughed sarcastically, "OK, now I know this **is** a joke. Or was this kid a relative of Allan's? Is that why you guys place such a stigma on him?"

Michael's voice grew dark, "That woman was sickly obsessed with that book. She wanted to manipulate the human genome to create a 'real' Edward. Sadly for her, and him as well, she was successful. His real complete file is somewhere in a secured vault. I always wondered..."

"So, you saw this 'file' you're talking about?" I was frantic.

He took a step closer to me, and I backed away. He smiled looking down, "Our current manager was always cold and strict, but with him she was extreme. One day, I heard something break in the coffee room. Coffee and glass were spilled everywhere. By the looks of things, she had tried to strike him with a mug full of coffee. He stood there glaring down. I began to help, and I found what he was capable of. He shoved me against the wall with such force that my collar bone snapped. I could see nothing but oblivion in those deep dark eyes. I was sure he'd kill me, but she called his name. She calls him by his code, and I can understand now why she sees him as an object."

"He's not!" I yelled, infuriated by his words I evaded him and rushed for the door, "Stop making things up! If you hate him..."

"I don't, but... Just ask him. He won't deny you if you ask him straight forward. I know because he told me the truth when I asked him."

"Shut up!" I rejected anything else he said and left. I wanted to lock that door and seal it forever behind a thick concrete wall. Let him swallow that secret.

For about ten minutes, I hyperventilated on a corner outside the office. I wanted to find Allan, but how to do so in this new massive complex. Did I even want to see him? If I did, I wanted him to lie to me. After I finally calmed down, I promised to myself I would believe anything he told me. Like he said, I truly was his, and he was mine.

Author's comments: Seems a bit long, but it's ok because of the dialogs. I should be able to comment more often since this is my finals week. I'd like to thank the real Julie -a.k.a **lose-your-voice**- for her help with fashion advise. It was truly helpful in the past chapter and in even more in this one.

Next Chapter: _**Ravenous**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Ravenous**_

_**P**_rayers were all that came to mind as I stood outside waiting for him. The wait was brief, but agonizing. As the evening had begun to grow dark, Allan appeared. His car stopped right in front of the library. All the time before he arrived, I wondered if my feet—which felt like lead— would be able to move at all. But as soon as I saw him, my feet felt as light as feathers as I ran down the stairs to meet him.

He opened the door for me courteously. Then, he offered his hand to help in, "Is something the matter?" His soft insightful voice caught me by surprise.

I flinched. I took his hand and shook my head, "No, I had... a strange day today." It wasn't a lie, but at the same time I wanted to deny everything else that I had learned before.

To my surprise, he squeezed my hand. "It must be strange. I've been less than a man these past few days. But, I promise that from now on, I won't lose sight of what is truly important. After all, you're _my everything_, Lea." He grinned and the gesture was sincere in the glow of his honey colored iris.

His hand parted from mine leaving the sensation tingling in my skin. I began to forget. I began to deny. What I had seen had not been written in stone. It was speculations. Circumstances that had stained my angel's life with misery. I would not be blinded, perhaps because his light had already corrupted my sight. I would remain next to him, basking in that light.

Allan had strengthened my resolve to believe in him with simple hand to hand contact. Still, as the car raced past every other car in the highway, I wondered if my family would fall in his spell just as easily. It was just my experience, but it was a known fact that I was particularly susceptible to this Edwardian charm.

As usual, we arrived at my mother's home in half the time it should have taken. When I stepped outside, the slant of the street took me by surprise. I faltered a bit. But if I may say so, I had the right to blame my mistake upon the bright moon. It was a light as clear as day. The light had a bluish tone to it. It covered my skin making it look blue as well. I realized then, as we stood at the door, that the light of the moon shinning off of Allan's pale skin had taken a new life. It was how I pictured Edward looked to Bella in the sun, as if he had been covered in a sequence of mirrors that reflected light. Radiating, mesmerizing, and he must have seen it in my dumbfounded look.

He gently lifted his hand and his finger tips lightly under my chin pushed my mouth to a close. "Thanks," I mumbled before I turned red and speechless. I felt so awkward and insignificant next to him.

Allan noticed my feelings, and the sly smile across his lips left me motionless, like a dear before the headlights. With his hands around my face, he made look up. Drawn into his eyes, into his light, I waited. He leaned down slowly. This was the first time he had ever attempted to kiss me. Finally, his lips tenderly pressed against mine. Firm, and soft with a fading warmth.

And then, the door finally opened. He let go of me. The light from inside the house broke the moonlight's spell. He took my hand and led me in.

We followed my sister, or so I think. I was in a daze. My first kiss. Right in front of my mother's full house, my face was on fire. I was certain that everyone could hear my thumping heart. I kept my eyes on the floor until I heard my mother's flimsy voice, "Welcome! You must be Allan. Thank you for coming."

"It's not a problem. Thank you very much for the invitation. It smells delicious." Allan's voice was courteous and perfect, like Bella would describe it, velvet indeed.

I noticed my mother blushed, and smiled as she offered a handshake, "I have to confess that I didn't cook. I ordered from Lea's favorite Thai restaurant. I always burn the food when I'm this nervous."

Allan cocked his head and mused, "Nervous?"

My mother led us to the kitchen, "It's something mothers go through when they meet the future husband of their daughter."

"Well," Allan grinned looking at me from the corner of his eye, "If it makes you feel more at ease, I can assure you that I don't bite. At least I haven't lately." He winked at me.

"Uh, eh, M-Merion! Hey! How did it go?" I called to my sister interrupting her private conversation with her bear-like husband.

My sister Merion was taller and more built than me, besides being four years older. We never had any interests in common. She hated books and loved movies –opposite of me. Today, she was wearing a dark gray skirt and white short-sleeved shirt. She looked as if she had been in an office, which was rare. She often chose to dress as casually as possible when at home. Then again, her job as a hotel critic had demands of its own. My sister, unlike me, had short (shoulder-length) hair. Her expression always appeared serious. At times it frightened me to talk to her, because she would either burst out laughing or scold me like there's no tomorrow. Frightening as she is, she was always protective of me. And if she knew about the situation with Allan, it was just a matter or time before she yells at me like the world is coming to an end—and it just might if she did. But for now, she was being pleasant.

Her husband, too, was an opposite of my taste in men. He was tall –just a few inches than Allan- and he was very muscular. His neck in particular was as wide as his head. His hair was dark brown and short. His facial features were a bit rough, but flawless nonetheless. His name is Vincent. A delicate name, I figured, for such a rough man.

We all sat at the table and began to eat. It all seemed so solemn. I mean, Vincent was using forks and everything during dinner –I always expected him to grab his food with his bare hands for some reason. I know my mother didn't spend a fortune, but I was really glad she had chosen my favorite food. It was all because the oil from the pad-tai noodles stained Allan's lips with a slight gloss. So beautiful and brief that it made me hate napkins. The food was good, but as I chewed each mouthful at turtle speed, I realized something. I was starved. But food wasn't what could sate such hunger. I wanted more of the forbidden fruit. Even if images of that story I had learned about made me cringe, I still wanted his lips. For all I knew and cared, he could devour me. And I'd be happy just to savor his lips and feel them against mine once again, longer and more passionately. I knew he could, but would he?

My endless speculations were interrupted by my sister's voice.

"So, how are the arrangements in that tiny gnome house of yours?" My sister's mocking words always made me blush.

I filled my cheeks with a puff of air. What I was about to say would be just as crude. But the night was saved.

"Our charming cottage, you mean?" Allan's eyes glimmered in my sister's direction. She turned away, but he continued, "It's more than perfect for the two of us. After all, we prefer that intimate closeness."

"Yeah, we'd get one like that, but I don't think we would fit in." Vincent laughed at his own idiotic comment.

Without noticing, I muttered, "The surprise is knowing that you can think." I sounded more resentful than intended, but I had to stand up for my man, right?

I didn't get the reaction I'd expected. Vincent began laughing. He laughed until tears came out. It made me edgy, until he slammed his fist on the table, "She's just as though as you said Merion. Really, I thought she was mute until now."

I heard Allan chuckle, and before I knew it, he was on Vincent's side, "Yes, she can be quite a mystery sometimes..." his voice trailed off as they laughed some more.

How can I explain...?

To see Allan laugh made my heart flutter. To see him laugh at me, however, made me extremely self-conscious. Was I that gullible? But worst of all... was he laughing at me for something else? Perhaps, what he had said before my sister opened the door was nothing but shameless mockery.

Still, I wanted to be fair. Maybe he was feeling at ease. He didn't have this type of connection with Aiden. Therefore, I should be happy. Happy that the person I love had made a friend. Someone to support him, and someone to help me defend him. But, I was getting too far ahead of myself. There is nothing to protect him against... is there?

Despite my sister's wary demeanor, we had a fairly good time. It all had me feel like I was six again among a large merry family. All that we were missing was the title of an over commercialized holiday. Or so I thought, until my mom stopped giggling and raised her cup of wine for a toast, "Cheers, for the engagement of the new couple!"

"Cheers!" Vincent's deep voice deafened me.

Confusion struck. The room began to spin around me. My feet felt like they were parting with gravity. Breathing was out of possibility. My mind was about to go blank, when he kneeled before me. Certainly, it couldn't be, could it?

I could tell then that my sister was holding in her wicked laughter. She had known all along. And now, the clueless me standing there in the center of everything was nothing but a joke.

"Lea," his voice was soft, like a caress. "Will you marry me?"

"I..." I was speechless. Like he really needed me to say it. My voice collapsed and tears began to flow down my cheeks. Since when had I longed for him this much?

I didn't know the answer to that. I recalled my words to the 'Dragon Lady' that day, _I want him!_ I was so happy it was true. So happy, that I was mute. And when I saw his lost expression at my silence I lounged at him with a hug. Only when he embraced my waist tightly could I speak, "Yes! Of course I will!"

I heard Vincent's voice say, "She's like one of those squeezable dolls that can talk." He chuckled in unison with my sister.

I lost my inhibitions then. I held his angelic face in my hands and kissed him. Perhaps it's too much to say I heard the chime of bells in that stint; but as far I see it, it's ok to lose touch with reality sometimes.

The kiss ended too soon to my dismay. It was no longer enough. But, we had time, and mom was crying. Silently at first, but I could see her streaming tears. She had been sobbing quietly, hiding in my sister's arm. I rushed to hug and console her, "I love you mom! Don't worry, I won't stop visiting you. Not now, not ever..."

My promises were cut off when I noticed Allan caught my hand and placed the ring on my hand. He wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me closer to his body. "Please forgive her if she fails to do good on that promise." I could hear the grin in Allan's voice.

Mom didn't see a threat in his remark. She seemed rather pleased as she pleaded, "If such is the case, take good care of her then."

"Always," he replied embracing me tighter.

It was suddenly over. The night, the reunion, the _surprise _engagement party.

Allan held my hand as he drove. By now, I knew to keep quiet. Resting gently on his shoulder, I really took the time to appreciate the ring he had given me. It wasn't the conventional diamond. It was seven blue stones incrusted on platinum.

"Opal," he said as if he read the questions in my mind. "They're not as expensive as diamonds. However, the folklore of the land where they're found calls them 'Tears of The Gods'. It is said that in their sorrow, the gods bless whoever has their tears."

"I already am blessed." I smiled to him wishing I could give him something of equal value.

"It's just a story. You needn't worry about getting me something like it. But my wish for you to achieve happiness remains the same."

I grimaced, "You can't read minds, can you?"

He chuckled, "If I did, we probably would have more _fun_ than we have so far." From the mischievous tone of his voice I knew he was talking about _that_.

I didn't want to answer to his silly taunting. So, I nuzzled closer to his neck. I could feel his warm breath on my hair and his heartbeat beneath the palm of my hand.

The night, this night, had been predestined to be perfect—or so I'd thought.

I don't recall falling asleep, but I must have done so somewhere along the way. I felt like slapping myself for letting my guard down so easily. At first, I thought the darkness was that of a room, but I could see the glint of starlight that had followed us from my house. How long had I been asleep? My body felt strange...

I looked around, and there he was. He was sitting next to me as he had been before I fell asleep. Well, almost as before. His arm no longer embraced my shoulders tenderly. There was something eerily tense about his extremely straightened back; his hands gripped the wheel with enough force to make a dent on it. His eyes were firmly focused the front like a tiger about to pounce on his prey.

I didn't know what to say. So, I tried to touch his shoulder. But when I did, he dodged to the side. I noticed my hand was stained with blood. I cringed back. When I tried to open my mouth, he held up his hand, "Don't move. Whatever happens, stay here!"

I was vexed. He sounded fierce. I was injured. He was angry. What caused it?

It occurred to me to look up then, and then I understood.

Two figures emerged from the deep dark forest. I had to squint, but what I saw had to be wrong. I wiped my glasses on a piece of cloth, and then squinted again. The moonlight was playing games with my mind; that had to be it.

The light of the two beings standing before Allan was similar to that of Allan's. What was more, as my eyes adjusted to the moonlight, I recognized them. It was the brothers from the 'Placement' office. It was hard to recognize them without their scrubs. They were dressed very casual in ripped jeans and leather jackets or vests. It was hard to see many details.

"Long time no see, _brother!"_ the loud voice was none other than Michael's.

Like an idiot, disobeyed Allan's warning. I jumped out of the car and barely managed to stay on my feet by hanging on to the car door. When I looked up, I gasped.

Michael was standing before me, too close for comfort. Strangely, his skin glowed beautifully like Allan's. Something about his crazed red eyes made my heart begin pounding. All I could think about was running away, but my knees trembled too much. "I, I..." I stammered. Trying to keep my cool, not wanting him to think I was drunk, I thought faster than usual. "Oh, you guys came to help?"

"Not really. It's more like we came to see you, _sis." _He touched my cheek with his frozen stone hand. Nothing about him resembled the kind gentleman I had met before.

I shrunk away. In the time that I blinked, Allan appeared before me. "Back off!" He growled. The sound thundered in my ears making me relieve all the nature shows I had seen in which lions fought for territory.

"I'm sorry," I pleaded.

"Don't be stingy," Michael whined. "I just want a little taste of sis. You should at least do that if you want your older brothers to approve."

"I don't need your approval," Allan hissed. Then, he took a step back keeping me hidden behind his back.

"Now, now," The other brother, the one who seemed to dislike me the most stepped next to Michael. "There's no need to fight. _Sis_ might scream if you get too close like that, Mike. You're always so impatient. If you act like that we'll get in trouble. This time follow my lead. You'll know you're good if you can manage to..."

"If you think that you'll go unharmed if even get near her, I'll gladly rip you to pieces again!"

"How so?" Michael asked playfully.

When I peered over Allan's shoulder, I saw him tossing something in the air. It shined while in midair. "Hey! That's mine!" I reached out. My left hand was bleeding from my finger from which the ring had been yanked off forcefully.

Allan growled when Michael moved.

"Relax, we won't be as tough with her as we were with Doria." Michael licked his lips when he said the name.

Allan's arm tensed. But he said nothing.

"Who's Doria?" I whispered.

"Oh, you mean, you're engaged and he hasn't told you?" Michael asked. "Hey, Derek... I gave her a hint, but she still needs to know. Should we tell?"

"Since Allan won't share, we might as well," said Derek. Both of them seemed to be enjoying a private joke. A joke that enraged Allan.

"Listen, when I tell you to do so, run." He whispered to me.

"Ha!" Derek let out a laugh.

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "She can try, but it won't do any good. Just like it happened with Doria."

It had to be some kind of joke. Something I was missing out on, and it was pissing me off. "Who the hell is Doria!" I barked.

"You're though sis." Michael said. "If you make it, maybe we can have fun for many days!"

"Run Lea!" Allan yelled.

It was in less than a fraction of a second. Allan kicked Michael in the stomach with such force that it sent him flying deep into the forest. I could hear his body. It sounded as though a wrecking ball was trampling the forest.

On the floor, Allan pinned Derek crushing his chest with his knee.

Even in the circumstances, Derek managed to speak, "Doria was his first! The first and only girl that... took him home. The one before you. The one he and us devoured and tore to shreds!"

I, unbelievably enough, began laughing. My knees finally gave up. Hot, bitter tears were streaming from my eyes as I asked, "What?"

Allan stood up. "He lies!" He advanced toward me.

I cowered away.

"You... didn't read carefully enough!" Michael appeared from the forest covered in leaves and coughing.

"Vampires!" I spewed sardonically.

"The will of an obsessed woman can be astonishing," Derek mused.

"Yes, sis. You were only... a once in a lifetime treat." Michael uttered the words that had been brewing in the back on my mind.

Derek then darkly stated, "That's why there are no guarantees."

And there, in the same night of the happiest day of my life, I stood shivering; trapped among lies, truths, and an unfathomable darkness.

*Author notes:

Apologies for taking too long in posting this. I understand if I lost people's interest. But then again, I only had very few readers to begin with XD, but I do love the few of you *3*

I had a very insightful conversation a few days ago that inspired me to continue. Anyways, the next chapter is:

_**Promises**_


End file.
